


The Shadiest Bachelor AU There Ever Was

by beach



Series: Bachelor AU Fest [3]
Category: Finder no Hyouteki | Finder Series
Genre: Bachelor AU, Comedy, Dubious Consent, F/M, M/M, Sexual Harassment, Undercover, everyone is shady, except mine is actually the bachelorette
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-29
Updated: 2016-12-18
Packaged: 2018-07-19 01:04:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 38,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7338331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beach/pseuds/beach
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Akihito goes undercover as a bachelor in Japan's first run of the hit American show "The Bachelorette." Akihito was sent to get exclusive behind-the-scenes stories for the paper, but upon meeting the other contestants, Akihito discovers that one is the handsome owner of the club in Shinjuku he's been investigating for weeks... And the others are not what they seem.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Delmire](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Delmire/gifts).



> Alright, I saw all the Bachelor AUs popping up on the Finder feed, and after reading Delmire's (sorry, haven't gotten to the other two yet), my muse started nudging me.
> 
> (I've been working on the next chapter of "Color My World," but the first version was terrible, and I had to start over because I was completely stalled by some mistakes. I thought it would be a good idea to write this just to get my creative juices flowing again. I'll try to get back to "Color My World" and "Exhibition" ASAP, with this thrown in for comic relief when I need it. My real life will be less busy soon, so I should have more time to write again.)
> 
> Original Characters:  
> Hanako: the paper's spy in the production team  
> Nanahara Aoki: the production assistant in charge of Akihito  
> Inagaki Shingo: the host of the show

“Takaba, Mitarai, my office. Now.”

Akihito inwardly groans. Not another dual assignment with Mitarai. That guy is always trying to mooch off Akihito’s efforts. Still, he follows Mitarai into the editor’s office.

The editor closes the door before revealing the scoop. “Have you heard of the Bachelorette?”

Akihito shakes his head, but Mitarai nods. “It’s that hit show in America where there’s one woman and a harem of men vying for her attention. In the end, two of the men propose to her, and she accepts one of them. Nearly every single couple has broken up after the show.”

Akihito rolls his eyes. _Sounds stupid._

“That’s the one. Japan is trying its own version.”

“Who’s the bachelorette?” Mitarai exclaims, obviously excited.

“Momohara Ai.”

“The actress? But she doesn’t need any help finding a date! There are thousands of men in Japan who would give their right arm to marry her,” Mitarai says, his enthusiasm suggesting he might be one of them.

“That’s precisely her problem. It’s hard for her to date anyone with the media following her around.”

Akihito shrugs. “So? You want us to cover the press conference announcing the project?” He can’t see why this assignment needs two photographers, and since Mitarai seems so gung-ho about it, Akihito’s hopeful that he can let Mitarai take over this boring scoop so he can get back to investigating that drug scandal at that club in Shinjuku.

“Not exactly. I have a source in the production, and rumors are that some of the bachelors have already been selected. Among them are a top-ranking Diet member, a certain model, a famous martial artist, Tokyo’s most popular host, and the owner of a certain club in Shinjuku.”

The editor’s eyes bore into Akihito’s on this last part, and Akihito gulps. Maybe this scoop is getting a bit interesting after all.

“So you want us to sneak around the mansion and try to get exclusive behind-the-scenes footage?” Mitarai asks. “I’m sure security is going to be super-tight.”

“Of course it will. The remaining bachelors will be selected from applications submitted by the public. I want the two of you to be selected.”

“Wait a second.” Akihito holds up his hands. “This thing is going to be on TV? Like, across the country?”

“It’s one of the top-rated shows in America,” Mitarai says. “How can we make sure we’re selected? I’m sure there will be tens of thousands of applicants.”

“My source in production has revealed the archetypes they’re looking for. Hanako will help the two of you prepare your applications.” The editor hands each of them a folder. “Mitarai, you’ll be the industrious graphic designer.” Mitarai nods. “Takaba, you’ll be the naive, innocent boy next door.”

Akihito groans aloud.

“They’re looking for someone sweet to counterbalance all the aggressive machismo that’s sure to come from so many men cohabiting while vying for the same woman.”

“Wait, I have to live there?” Akihito asks. “With –” He stops himself before he can point at Mitarai. Instead, he crosses his arms across his chest.

“Don’t pout. Look in the folder. You’ll get a substantial fee for every day you last on the show, directly from the show. And for every exclusive scoop you can get me, you’ll get a bonus. We’ll also cover the cost of your rent and utilities while you’re on the show, so you’ll have nothing to worry about.”

Akihito grudgingly opens the folder. His eyes pop out at the figures listed. “What about my other scoops?”

“You’ll have two weeks before the show starts. Wrap them up by then.”

 

Two weeks later, Akihito stands nervously in his job application suit (the only one he owns), waiting for the car to arrive to pick him up. When the doorbell rings, he slings his duffel bag over his shoulder, taking one last look around his apartment.

The lady who greets him (dressed in jeans and a rumpled t-shirt) eyes him up and down. “Is that the only suit you own?”

“Yeah,” Akihito says defensively. “I don’t need one for my job.”

“Hmm. It’s supposed to be formal attire for the first night, but we don’t want to go over the top with tuxes. This is Japan.” She walks around him with a critical eye. “You have good skin. Won’t need any make-up. Good, good. Can you do something about that hair, though?”

“What’s wrong with my hair?” Akihito asks defensively. He spent twenty minutes making sure he didn’t have any flat spots.

The lady glances down at a clipboard. “Takaba Akihito. Age 23. Lives in a 2LDK in Musashino.” She glances around the tiny apartment. “They call this a 2LDK?”

Akihito bristles, but he can’t tell her about his darkroom; photography is supposed to be only a minor hobby for him.

She looks back at her clipboard. “Young part-timer. No college.” She sighs. “I guess the suit is fine. You’re going to have to work extra hard to get a rose so you don’t go home the first night.”

Akihito nods.

“Alright, when you leave your apartment, take one long last look at it. Then turn to your right and head down the stairs. The driver will open the door of the limo for you. Wait until I say go.”

Akihito nods again.

After some back-and-forth over her walkie-talkie, she steps to the side. “Three. Two. One. Go.”

Akihito has barely made it out the door when she calls, “Cut!”

“Don’t look at the camera,” she admonishes him.

“Sorry.” It’s hard not to look at the giant lens, especially when the cameraman is moving it so close to his face.

During the next take, Akihito makes it halfway down the stairs.

“Don’t go so fast! Give the cameras time to follow you.”

Fifteen takes later, Akihito is finally in the limo. The lady slides in beside him and finally introduces herself. “I’m Nanahara Aoki. I’m your P.A.” At Akihito’s blank look, she clarifies, “Production Assistant. Let’s go over your character.”

“My character? Aren’t I supposed to be me?”

Nanahara looks at him. “Of course you are, but we’re trying to build a narrative here. You’re an innocent, sweet young man. Your profile says you’ve never had a girlfriend.”

Akihito blushes and nods.

“Oh. You’ll be fine. You’re a natural.”

Akihito tries to pay attention to where they’re going, but he has to do the in-car interview, talking about his expectations of the experience and what he thinks of Momohara Ai.

“She’s pretty, I guess.” He turns tomato-red. He didn’t tell any of his family and friends about the show; he merely told them he was going undercover for a while (on a _safe_ assignment, which none of them really believed). But he knows that sooner or later, one of them will figure it out.

“Are you a fan?” Nanahara prods. She’s already explained that the questions will be edited out, and Akihito’s responses will be strung together as if they hadn’t been asked.

“I’ve seen a few of her movies, I think. And in interviews, she, uh, seems really, uh, nice,” Akihito says helplessly.

After another hour of being asked the same and similar questions, the car passes through an automatic gate and heads up a long driveway to the biggest house Akihito has ever seen.

“Wow,” he breathes.

 

Once inside, he’s whisked away to “hair and make-up,” where the hairstylist tsks and washes his hair. “You used way too much gel,” she chides. As she’s doing his hair, she explains to him what she’s doing.

“Thanks,” Akihito says, examining himself in the mirror when she’s finished. It looks similar to his usual messy style, but somehow better.

“Remember, use less gel. Add water if it’s not cooperating.” The stylist smiles at him.

“Got it.”

The make-up artist examines Akihito’s face. She trims his sideburns but otherwise leaves his skin alone. “You’ve got beautiful skin, but you should really use sunblock. You’ll get wrinkles later if you don’t.”

“Thanks for the advice,” Akihito says.

She gives a half-laugh. “You’re not going to take it. I can tell.”

Akihito shrugs and blushes.  “I tan easily. I’ve never burned, so I don’t see the point.”

She smiles. “It’s about protecting your skin. You should take better care of yourself.”

“I eat my vegetables,” Akihito counters.

The make-up artist giggles.

“Enough of that. We’ve got to work on your blocking,” Nanahara says.

After practicing a few times for the evening’s greeting and rose ceremony, Akihito is taken back outside to a trailer and shown to a small closet-sized room within it.

“If you need to go to the bathroom, press this button, and someone will escort you. Otherwise, stay here. If you try to wander off, you’ll be pulled from the show. We have ten alternates waiting on standby. Remember your contract.”

Akihito gulps. Maybe he should have read the lengthy contract he had to sign as part of his application.

Two hours later, he’s bored with his DS. He pulls the solitary easy chair away from the wall and starts practicing parkour moves. He tries a kong vault, but the easy chair teeters off-balance, and he decides it’s too dangerous. The space between the legs is too narrow for him to practice underbars. He rotates the chair so that it’s facing across the narrow section of the room and starts practicing kong vaults over the arms. He’s only finished three when Nanahara comes bustling back into the room.

“Takaba Akihito! What are you doing? You’re rocking the whole trailer!”

“I’m bored,” he complains. His stomach rumbles. “And hungry.”

Nanahara sighs. “I’ll see if I can take you to craft.”

Akihito grins. On photography sets, he’s usually not allowed to help himself to the delectable spreads set out for the talent.

His grin slips when he sees a folding table set up with piles of five- and ten- yen snacks. “Is there anything to drink?” he asks.

Nanahara points to a sports water cooler with a pile of plastic cups next to it.

The water is warm, as if the cooler sat out in the sun most of the day, but Akihito knows not to complain.

“Can I use the restroom?” he asks, wanting to delay the moment he’ll be stuck in that closet again.

Nanahara checks on her radio. “Hurry up,” she says, leading the way.

 

Three hours later, Nanahara knocks on his door. Akihito stands up, hopeful he can finally leave the room, but Nanahara hands him a sandwich and a bag of chips.

“How much longer do I have to stay here?” Akihito asks.

“You can’t meet any of the other bachelors until we’re rolling,” Nanahara explains.

“When will that be?”

“We have to wait until it gets dark in case we need to reshoot anything.”

Akihito reaches for his cell phone before remembering that Nanahara confiscated it in the limo. He sighs, wishing he owned a watch. “What time is it?”

“You’ve got about one more hour. Sit tight, okay? And if you need to use the restroom, do it soon. Once we’re rolling, you won’t be able to, even if you’re not on set.”

Akihito nods.

 

Two hours later, Akihito is sitting in the limo, wireless microphone hidden under his clothes, his heart thumping nervously. It finally feels real. _What the hell am I doing?_

He takes a breath to steady himself. _It’s an assignment. Just remember what your goal is, Akihito. Play along until you get the scoop._

After two practice walks up the stairs to the front door of the house, the real take begins. This time, a pompous-looking man in a tuxedo opens the door, bowing as he welcomes Akihito home. Akihito walks into the main hall, looking around as if he hasn’t seen it before (as he practiced earlier) before following the butler to a set of polished double doors. When the butler opens one of the doors, Akihito steps inside. He walks up to the host, Inagaki Shingo, offering his hand. Only after shaking the host’s hand does Akihito turn to look at the other bachelors.

Already in the room is a serious-looking salaryman with short hair and glasses, a tall hulk of a man who looks even more uncomfortable in his suit than Akihito feels, and Mitarai (who sneers condescendingly at Akihito’s suit).

“Please take a seat,” Shingo says.

Akihito glances at the three couches. None of the others look remotely friendly, but he decides the salaryman is the least intimidating option.

After the director yells “Cut!” Akihito turns and introduces himself to the salaryman. “Hi. I’m Takaba Akihito. I’m a ph- part-timer.”

The salaryman looks at the hand Akihito offers until Akihito slides it back onto his lap. “Kirishima Kei.”

 _Wrong choice, Aki._ Akihito fidgets uncomfortably while the other contestants arrive one by one.

As the night goes on, he tries not to yawn. He can barely pay attention as man after man is brought into the room slowly over the next several hours. Only a few stand out.

The famous martial artist turns out to be a Chinese man with long, flowing hair and dressed in an elaborate traditional outfit. He looks around and stalks over to the couch Akihito and the salaryman are sitting on. “Move,” he says imperiously.

Akihito looks back at him defiantly, but the man stands there waiting, so he eventually shifts over so the man can have the middle seat. Once the cameras are off, the man turns to Akihito and offers his hand. “You are?”

“Takaba Akihito,” he stammers, blushing. _Why am I getting so nervous? He’s just a man._

But the sense of power and authority radiating off the man sends a shiver down his spine. _He looks as if he could kill someone without a second thought._

Akihito tries to shake the thought from his mind. “And you are?” he asks.

“He just said.” The martial artist gestures at Shingo and scowls.

“Sorry. It’s hard to keep everyone straight.”

The man glowers for another moment before sighing and saying, “Liu Fei Long.”

The last man to arrive is tall, and his designer suit complements his _Sports Illustrated_ -quality physique. He oozes elegance from every pore. When he finally turns around and Akihito gets a glimpse of the man’s face, he gasps. The man has the most beautiful face Akihito has ever seen – even more beautiful than any model he’s photographed, male or female.

At Akihito’s gasp, the man swivels his head in Akihito’s direction. Their eyes meet, and the man smirks as his amber eyes seem to freeze Akihito in place. The power radiating from this man makes that of the martial artist seem weak in comparison. The man’s smirk grows wider, and Akihito shakes himself out of his stupor, glaring at the man for looking down at him.

“Asami Ryuichi, owner of Club Sion,” Shingo announces.

Akihito gasps again. The Club Sion investigation was the only one he couldn’t wrap up before the show. _Now maybe I can._

While sitting in the closet, he’d contemplated leaving so he could get kicked off the show already. The only thing that stopped him was the knowledge of the wrath he would face at work. Now, however, he finds himself contemplating for the first time how he can guarantee himself a rose.

Asami turns and looks at Akihito with interest once again. He smirks and heads for a chair next to the salaryman at the end of the couch.

After the cameras stop, Akihito fidgets uncomfortably. His hand brushes against his crotch, and he realizes he’s half-hard. _What the hell?_ he wonders. He glances over at Asami, meeting his gaze. Akihito blushes and looks away again.

The men are given thirty minutes to chat quietly amongst themselves while the outside is set up for the next scene. Two cameras remain on the periphery of the men, capturing their conversation as unobtrusively as possible.

Most of the men get up and mingle, but Akihito remains seated awkwardly on the couch. _I don’t know what to say to any of these people._

He glares at Mitarai mingling happily with a couple of other contestants – a model and a host, if Akihito remembers correctly.

“Takaba Akihito, right?”

Akihito looks up into a pair of piercing amber eyes. He swallows. “Yes. Asami Ryuichi, right?”

“You remembered my name. I’m flattered.”  Asami offers his hand, and Akihito takes it. He’s startled by Asami’s firm grip – even more so when Asami pulls him to his feet. Asami leans in and whispers in his ear, “You know my club?”

Akihito is shocked. He pulls back a little to meet Asami’s eyes, which are burning with authority. Akihito glares back. “I’ve heard of it.”

Asami casually adjusts his necktie with his free hand as he says in a low tone, “I’ve heard of you, too: freelance photographer for _Weekly Headlines_. I wonder what the producer would say if he knew a member of the press was here.” Asami raises his eyebrows as he adjusts Akihito’s necktie for him.

Akihito’s eyes widen, but after a second, he glares up at Asami. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I take pictures as a hobby, but they already know that.”

“Hm.”

Asami finally releases Akihito’s hand, turns on his heel and stalks away towards the martial artist without a second glance.

Akihito teeters on his feet for a moment before finding his balance. He takes a furtive glance towards the cameras, wondering if they caught his exchange with Asami. Then he remembers the microphone.

_Shit._

Well, at least if he gets kicked out, it won’t be his fault. He sidles over to the nearest group of men and half-heartedly joins their conversation, but he’s barely introduced himself when he sees Nanahara wildly gesturing him over to the side behind the cameras. He trudges over resignedly.

“Your microphone got turned off. Try not to touch it,” she chides.

Akihito blinks at her. He remembers Asami adjusting his necktie for him. _Did he –? But why? I thought he wanted me to get kicked out._

He chats awkwardly with the other bachelors. He’s the youngest there, and the only ‘part-timer’. _Couldn’t Editor have given me a better fake job, like Mitarai’s?_

Akihito doesn’t have long to stew before they’re being ushered back to their chairs in preparation for the first meet-and-greet.  Each bachelor will have two minutes to talk to Momohara Ai. After that, she’ll hand out twelve roses, and the other four men will go home.

Akihito gulps. _I’ve got a three in four shot._ He looks around the room again. The model, the host, the martial artist Liu, and Asami are all shoe-ins. As Akihito continues eying the others, comparing himself to them, his heart starts to sink. _I might be picked over him. Maybe him, too._ That’s it.

Akihito grins to himself. _I’ll just have to win her over with my personality._

But when it’s his turn to go outside, he nearly stumbles as he approaches Momohara. “Hello, Momohara-san, I’m Takaba Akihito,” he addresses her awkwardly, bowing and offering his hand.

She takes it with a giggle. “Relax. Nice to meet you, Takaba-san.”

_At least she used ‘san’ instead of ‘kun’._

There’s an awkward pause, and Akihito can hear the seconds ticking away. _One-hundred twenty isn’t much. Think, Akihito, think! Say something!_

Momohara rescues him. “Is this your first time in front of a camera?”

“Yeah,” Akihito says awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. “I spend more time behind one.” Then he remembers his cover story. “As a photographer – an amateur one. It’s my hobby.” He finds himself tongue-tied talking to such a pretty girl; usually he doesn’t talk directly to the talent.

“What do you like to take pictures of?” Momohara asks.

“The city. At night.” Akihito shrugs. He notices the camera pointing up at Ai’s face. “Hey, that’s not a very flattering angle,” he admonishes the cameraman.

Ai raises her eyebrows and giggles.

“You should shoot a lady from directly in front or slightly above,” Akihito explains. “Especially in this lighting.” The cameraman looks over at the director, who signals him to comply with Akihito’s instructions.

“You really sound like you know what you’re talking about. You must take your hobby very seriously.” Momohara smiles at him.

“I guess,” Akihito says, shrugging. He doesn’t like lying, so he decides to come as close to the truth as he can. “I’d like to do it professionally one day, but I need more practice.”

Momohara’s face closes off.

 _Uh-oh. Did I say something wrong? Oh, we’ve been talking too much about me. Mom said I should show more interest in others rather than just prattling on about myself._ “What about you?” he asks.

Momohara’s eyebrows shoot up.

“What do you like to do for a hobby, I mean?” Akihito asks awkwardly.

Momohara’s face relaxes and she smiles at him. “You’re the first person who’s asked me that.”

“Really?” Akihito swallows. _That’s a good thing, right?_

“I like fashion and shopping and movies. That’s why I chose my line of work. But I miss running.”

“Were you on the track team?” Akihito asks.

“In middle school, but I started modeling in high school and had to quit. I still try to run sometimes, but now that I’m so easily recognized, it’s hard when I’m in the city.”

“Maybe you’ll get a chance here,” Akihito says.

“Time!” the director calls.

“It was nice to meet you, Takaba Akihito,” Momohara says, shaking his hand.

Akihito walks shakily inside, wondering whether he made a good enough impression to stay.

An hour later, the men are waiting once again in the drawing room. Shingo enters with Momohara. They approach a table with a large vase containing a dozen red roses. One by one, she picks up a rose and says a short speech before calling up one of the men. As Akihito guessed, Asami, the martial artist Liu, the model Sudou, and the host Sakazaki are the first four to receive roses. Next are the Diet member Kurosaki, Kirishima the salaryman, Suoh (the behemoth who turns out to be a P.E. teacher), and (to Akihito’s chagrin) Mitarai. The next three go to other salarymen. There’s one rose left.

Akihito takes a deep breath.

“Everyone was really charming, and I feel like I didn’t really get to know you all well enough to really pick. I’m sorry to everyone who won’t get a rose. Please don’t take it personally,” Momohara says, carefully avoiding making eye contact with anyone.

After a brief moment of silence, Shingo urges her, “The last rose goes to…”

“The person who receives the last rose was really sweet. He showed a genuine interest in me, and he was the only one to call me by my last name.” Momohara finally looks at Akihito, and he turns scarlet. “Takaba-san, will you accept this rose?”

Akihito nearly stumbles in his haste to hop up and accept the rose. Momohara giggles at him. He has to be reminded where to go, taking the last spot in the row of bachelors who are moving on to the next stage. He feels a hand on his bottom. He can’t turn around to see whose it is, but he knows that standing behind him are Liu and Sakazaki.

_What the hell?_


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The men are given a tour of the house, and Akihito learns more details about the contract he signed. As the men settle into the house, Akihito discovers that several seem to have a hidden agenda. Just what exactly is going on in this Bachelor Pad? And why do some of the bachelors appear to be more interested in Asami than Momohara Ai? Why do some appear to be more interested in _Akihito_ than Momohara?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original Characters:  
> Hanako: the paper's spy in the production team  
> Nanahara Aoki: the production assistant in charge of Akihito  
> Inagaki Shingo: the host of the show

Akihito quickly reaches behind him and catches the pinky of the hand that’s trying to remove itself from his bottom. He squeezes the first and third knuckle together with his thumb and forefinger, applying pressure to a trigger point. He hears a gasp from his right.

_So it was Sakazaki. That bastard!_

Akihito releases the finger and waits until the cameras stop rolling to confront Sakazaki. But the cameras never stop.

“As you all read in your contracts,” Shingo explains as he leads them on a tour of the house, “there are hidden cameras throughout the house and grounds that will be monitoring you 24/7. Of course, there are no cameras in the bathroom or toilet rooms for your privacy. You are to wear your microphones at all times unless you are bathing. Here is a ‘confessional’ room with a camera set up for you to record your private thoughts and feelings about the experience. You may enter it by yourself or with others, and you can lock the door to ensure privacy.

“Here is the kitchen. You will have a fully stocked refrigerator, but you’re responsible for preparing your own meals, except as announced. Here’s a gym with weight-lifting and cardio equipment. If you’ll step outside with me…

“You have a swimming pool and an onsen.”

“Are there cameras in the onsen?” One of the salarymen asks.

“There are microphones around the pool and onsen, but no cameras within the onsen walls. I suggest you wear a towel to get there, though.” Shingo smiles.

“What about the rest of the property?” Akihito asks.

“What do you mean?” Shingo asks, frowning slightly.

“Like, if I wanted to go for a run, how far could I go?”

“You are to stay within the perimeters. If you leave the area immediately surrounding the house, you must have permission of the producer and be accompanied by a crew member. Any violation will result in immediate expulsion from the house.”

Akihito gulps. He looks around the outdoor area, but there’s not much that would be good for parkour besides the house itself.

“If you’ll follow me back inside, I’ll show you your sleeping quarters,” Shingo says, resuming the tour. “I’m sure you must be very tired.”

He leads the way upstairs to three small bedrooms. There are four futons already laid out in each room, with each person’s luggage set beside their bed. Akihito wonders who he’ll be sharing a room with, hoping Sakazaki isn’t one of them.

“We removed any contraband items from your luggage,” Shingo continues. “Things such as spare cell phones, internet-capable devices, cameras… anything forbidden in the contract you signed before coming here.”

“What did you do with my cameras and film?” Akihito asks hotly.

Mitarai subtly nudges him to shut up, but Akihito needs to know his cameras are safe.

“They’ve been locked in a temperature-controlled safe downstairs. You’ll get them back when you leave the house,” Shingo reassures him. “But we can’t have anyone leaking information to the outside world.”

“I wasn’t going to –” he stops abruptly at the look Shingo gives him.

“You may contact your families once a week, but your conversation will be monitored. It will not, however, be recorded or televised. Does anyone have any other questions?”

Akihito has hundreds, but he decides it’s time to keep his mouth shut.

“When’s the next elimination?” One of the salarymen asks nervously.

“Forget that, when do we get to see Ai-chan again?” another asks.

“You will be informed of the schedule as you need to know it. But I suggest you get some sleep; you never know when you’ll have an early day here. Good night, gentlemen.”

Shingo heads off into a locked wing of the mansion, but the two cameramen stay behind as the men figure out their sleeping arrangements.

Akihito rushes into the room and checks his bag. “They took my tablet, too,” he grumbles. He makes sure his mini-cam is still safely stowed in the truck of his skateboard, and his microphone-pen inside the spiral of his notebook.

He looks up from his bag when some of the others enter the room. He inwardly groans when he sees Sakazaki. He can’t confront him in front of the cameras – how embarrassing would it be to admit some guy was groping you on national television? Especially since Sakazaki could just deny it. But Akihito won’t be able to sleep in the same room as a pervert.

“Do we have to stay in the rooms our bags are in?” Akihito asks one of the cameramen. The cameraman shrugs but doesn’t answer. Akihito notices the salaryman assigned to his room staring at him. “No offense. I like to sleep in an east-facing room if possible,” Akihito explains feebly.

“I’d like to change rooms, too,” Kurosaki (the Diet member) says. “I’m a light sleeper, and if I’m next to the bathroom, I’ll be up all night.”

Soon most of the men are in the hallway with their bags, each trying to figure out where the others are going so they can be assigned to what they perceive is the “best” room. _Are they forming alliances already?_ Akihito wonders. _I didn’t think that would matter in this show since Momohara-san will be the one deciding who stays._

Asami strides from the slightly larger corner room at the far end of the hall. He glances around at everyone holding their luggage. He crosses his arms, leans against the wall, and asks with one eyebrow raised, “What seems to be the problem?”

“Asami-san, is there extra space in your room? It’s the farthest from the bathroom, and I’m sure you understand the importance of a good night’s sleep for a man as busy as yourself,” Kurosaki blusters.

“I’m afraid this room is already full,” Asami drawls. The bespectacled salaryman Kirishima and P.E. teacher Suoh come out of the room after him. “We have one leaving, but Takaba already claimed a spot, right?”

A shiver ripples down Akihito’s spine when he meets Asami’s piercing gaze, but he nods. Surely Asami is better than Sakazaki. Besides, it will give Akihito more opportunity to investigate the club owner.

“But Asami-sama, I was assigned to this room!” the model Sudou whines.

Asami gives him a cold stare. “Weren’t you complaining that the morning light was going to wake you up? Now your problem is solved.”

“But…” Sudou trails off, unable to counter Asami’s argument. He grabs his bag and joins the mêlée in the hallway.

As Akihito follows Asami back to the corner room, the others start fighting over the room adjacent to it (and nearest the bathroom).

Kurosaki is suddenly insisting he wants a space in that room.

“It’s nearest the bathroom,” Sakazaki points out. “Weren’t you worried about being awakened by the noise?”

“The other one is across from it, so it will be just as loud – especially since it’s also next to the stairs,” Kurosaki counters. “Besides, this is the room I was originally assigned to, and I don’t want to switch, after all.”

By the time the dust is settled, Kurosaki, Sudou, Sakazaki, and one of the salarymen are in the room between the corner room and the bathroom. Mitarai is stuck in the room closest to the stairs with the two other salaryman, but he doesn’t seem bothered by that arrangement. The martial artist Liu Fei Long has set his futon up in the small study at the end of the hall across from the corner room.

Meanwhile, Akihito is getting settled in his new room. “I didn’t mean to start a fracas over the room assignments,” he says feebly.

Suoh and Kirishima ignore him. Asami raises his eyebrows and gives a half-shrug as if to ask, “Who cares?”

“Where should I set up?” Akihito asks.

Suoh continues arranging his things around the futon nearest the door. Asami is set up closest to the window, and Kirishima is in the middle, but there isn’t enough space on either side of him for Akihito to arrange the last futon.

“You can have the space next to the window,” Asami offers. He slides his futon towards Kirishima’s.

“But Asami-sama –” Kirishima starts, stopping abruptly at the death glare Asami gives him. Without another word, Kirishima slides his futon closer to Suoh’s.

 _Asami-_ sama _? Do those two know each other?_ Akihito wonders. He sets up the last futon in the narrow space between Asami’s and the window. He pulls out a tank top and pair of shorts but freezes. “Are there cameras in the bedrooms?” he wonders. He does not want to accidentally change on national television.

“There’s one just outside in the hallway. There do not appear to be any in the room itself, but since there is no door, most of the room is under surveillance,” Kirishima recites after consulting his tablet.

“Hey! How come you were able to keep your tablet?” Akihito demands.

“Mine is not internet-compatible. Besides, I need it for work.” Kirishima snaps the tablet case closed.

“Oh.” Akihito heads to the bathroom to get ready for bed.  There are four individual bathing stations, four changing stalls, and a large, communal tub. Akihito gulps. He can’t imagine getting stuck in the tub alone with that Sakazaki guy.

_Calm down, Akihito. He probably just accidentally touched you._

But then why did Sakazaki’s hand linger? Why did he give a little squeeze?

_I’m a guy. He’s here to date Momohara-san._

Akihito sighs. It’s not the first time somebody’s grabbed his butt. But the other times it’s happened, it was on a crowded train, and he’d always convinced himself it was some pervert woman (even though the hands always felt too big to be a woman’s). That’s why he stopped riding the trains and got his motorcycle license as soon as he could.

He decides to wash himself quickly, forgo the bath, and head to bed. He didn’t like Shingo’s hint that they’d be awakened early, especially considering it’s already after three a.m.

Akihito’s inside one of the changing rooms when he hears two men talking quietly.

“I can’t believe neither of us made it into Asami-san’s room. Our mission is going to be a lot more difficult.”

“Who is that part-timer? Why did Asami-san let _him_ into his room?”

“Asami-san is on top guard. The boss warned us he would be. That part-timer is the least likely to be a threat.”

Akihito freezes, scared to move and give himself away. _Who is that?_ He can tell it’s not Liu or Kurosaki, and he presumes it’s not Kirishima or Suoh given what they’ve said.

Sudou’s voice can be heard from the hallway. “They’d better have enough hot water for all of us,” he whines.

Akihito hurriedly finishes dressing. He opens the door to his changing stall just as Sudou, Sakazaki, and Mitarai are setting their things down at washing stations. Akihito sneaks a quick peek at the two men who were talking: the salaryman from Sudou’s room and one of the ones from Mitarai’s room. _I need to learn their names, figure out who they’re really working for, and what they want with Asami._

He walks out of the bathroom as nonchalantly as possible, pretending he hadn’t heard anything.

When he gets back to his bedroom, Asami and Kirishima are talking quietly, but they stop as soon as he enters.

“Hello,” Akihito says sheepishly. He gets ready for bed and slides into his futon. _Those two definitely know each other. If Asami really has as high a guard as that salaryman says – and given what I know about Asami’s club, he’d be stupid not to – then he must know both Kirishima and Suoh. But why_ did _he invite me to his room? He kicked that model out so I could join them._

Akihito looks again at the futon arrangement and frowns. Asami put Akihito right next to himself and farthest from the door. It will make it more difficult for Akihito to investigate anyone else in the house, but Asami knows Akihito is investigating his club. _Is he making fun of me? Trying to tell me that I can be right next to him, and I still won’t find anything out?_

“What are you thinking over there, Takaba?” Asami asks, smirking.

Akihito glares at him. “Nothing. Good night!” Under the blanket, he pulls his shorts and tank top off and sets them next to his futon. He gets hot while he’s sleeping, but he does not want to appear on national television in his boxer-briefs.

Asami looms over Akihito’s futon, one foot on either side of him. “I asked what you were thinking, brat,” he repeats.

Akihito glares at him, but when Asami’s look doesn’t waver, Akihito eventually looks away. “Nothing. I was just wondering why you let me in your room.”

“You were the least objectionable of my options,” Asami explains. Suddenly he’s on his knees and leaning forward (and thus practically lying on top of Akihito). Asami whispers in Akihito’s ear, “Besides, you’re interested in me. I thought I’d oblige your curiosity.”

“What are you talking about?” Akihito bursts out. His face – no, his entire body – feels like it’s on fire.

“Your mouth says one thing, but your body speaks the truth.” Asami smirks as one hand rubs against Akihito’s crotch.

 _Shit. I’m hard,_ Akihito realizes, mortified. He covers his face with one arm.

Asami stands up and moves across to where Suoh and Kirishima are standing talking quietly in the doorway. “I think I’m about ready for my bath,” Asami says.

“Yes, Asami-sama,” Kirishima replies, earning himself another glare from Asami.

As the men leave, Akihito sees the camera poorly hidden in the chandelier in the hallway. He rolls towards the window so neither his face nor his predicament can be seen. _Maybe I should have stayed in the room with Sakazaki._ But as he remembers his face-off with Asami, a shiver runs down his spine and his body grows even warmer. _What the hell is wrong with me?_ he wonders.

He’s interrupted from his ruminations by a knock at the door. “Do you know where Asami-san is?” Kurosaki demands.

Akihito turns to look at him as he answers, “He went to take a bath.”

“I just came from the bathroom. You’re no help,” Kurosaki says. He turns to leave.

“I can tell him you were looking for him,” Akihito offers.

“I was going to invite him to take a bath together. It’s fine. I’ll catch him tomorrow,” Kurosaki mutters.

 _Why does everyone want to get close to Asami? Did they all find out he was going to be on this show?_ Akihito wonders. _Is that why they applied? That’s rude to Momohara-san._ Akihito gulps when he realizes that’s exactly what he did, too.

Kurosaki’s appearance at least helped Akihito’s body calm down, and he’s soon fast asleep. He doesn’t hear Asami and the others return from their bath an hour later.

 

The next morning, Akihito awakens feeling warm and cozy, so he keeps his eyes closed and tries to fall back asleep. As he stirs, he feels a pair of arms tighten around him.

“Let’s sleep a little longer,” someone murmurs in his ear.

Akihito’s eyes snap open. He sees a pair of muscular arms wrapped around him and registers the warm, solid mass at his back. He thrashes, trying to get the arms to release their hold.

“Stop that. Sleep,” Asami says.

“You stop that!” Akihito shrieks, elbowing Asami in the stomach.

Asami finally opens his eyes, realizes the situation, and lets Akihito go.

“Sheesh, what the hell are you doing, groping me in your sleep? Wake up,” Akihito grouses. He’s about to stand up when he remembers the cameras.

“You were the one who rolled over into my space,” Asami points out.

Akihito glances down and realizes that he’s not in his own futon. He stands up, wrapping his blanket around him. “Sorry,” he mutters. “I was asleep.”

“So was I until you so rudely woke me up.”

Akihito grabs some clothes and heads to the restroom to get dressed, still wrapped in his blanket. As he passes them, both Kirishima and Suoh glare up at him sleepily.

“Sorry,” he mutters again as he leaves the room, his face reddening. _Hopefully that was too boring to put on television._

Once in the toilet, Akihito realizes that his lower half has woken up, too. _I’m still young. It’s just typical morning wood,_ he reassures himself. He reaches over and turns off his microphone. Technically he’s in the bathroom, and he’s entitled to at least a little privacy.

As he tries to relieve his discomfort, flashes of Asami keep popping into his mind: his overwhelming presence when first introduced to the other bachelors, his intense gaze meeting Akihito’s, the feel of his muscles on Akihito’s back, his hand on Akihito’s crotch, his deep voice vibrating Akihito’s ear…

_What the hell is wrong with me?_

The image of Asami’s face leaning closer to Akihito’s throws his imagination into overdrive, and he envisions the man claiming his lips. Akihito’s finish is more intense than anything he’s ever experienced before.

_What the hell? Fuck!_

He takes a moment to calm himself, flushes the evidence, washes his hands in the sink over the toilet, and gets dressed.

When he finally emerges from the toilet, he sees Asami standing with his arms folded across his chest, his infuriating smirk plastered on his face.

“There are other toilets,” Akihito points out, gesturing to the others.

“You were in there an awfully long time.”

Akihito shrugs. “Nature called.”

“Yes, but which part of nature?” Asami’s smirk widens. “Were you imagining me?”

“In your dreams,” Akihito retorts, glaring up at him.

Asami is blocking Akihito’s direct path to the door, so Akihito moves to step around him. But Asami steps towards him, blocking his way. Akihito takes a half step in the opposite direction, and Asami moves to block him again. In four steps, Asami has Akihito backed up against the wall.

“What do you want?” Akihito demands, a defiant look settling across his face.

“You’re feisty. I like that. You wanted to know more about me, right? I’ll show you everything you want to know.”

“How many tons of illegal drugs are filtered through your clubs each year?” Akihito asks hotly.

Asami steps back half a step, chuckling. Akihito rushes past him. As he’s leaving the bathroom, Asami calls after him, “You’re bold, Takaba Akihito. I’ll give you that. But you’re one hundred years too early to think you can go against me.”

 

Akihito heads downstairs. He needs to get _out_ of this house, as far away from Asami and Sakazaki and the cameras as he can. He pulls on his shoes, rakes his fingers through his hair, and tries to open the front door – only to discover it’s locked, and he can’t figure out how to unlock the electronic lock. He stalks to the back door, which thankfully opens. As he jogs across the patio between the pool and the onsen, someone calls after him. “Where are you going, Takaba-san?”

“Just for a run. I need to burn off some energy,” Akihito says, sighing.

“You left your microphone upstairs,” the P.A. says.

“Sorry,” Akihito says. “I forgot.” He takes the microphone and attaches it to himself.

“You’ve got to wait for a cameraman to come with you,” the P.A. says. “And you’ll only have fifteen minutes.”

“Fifteen minutes? That’s barely any time!” Akihito protests.

She shrugs. “I could just make you stay here. We do have exercise equipment inside.”

Akihito swallows. “Fifteen minutes will be fine. Thank you.”

The cameraman comes outside a minute later, looking grouchy in his sneakers, jeans, and t-shirt. “Don’t go out of my line of sight,” he orders. “If you’re too far, I’ll whistle.” He gestures to a pea whistle hanging from his neck. “When I whistle twice, it’s time to go back.”

Akihito takes off, but the shrill tone of the whistle constantly calls him back. He eventually finds himself running in a large, slowly moving circle around the cameraman. He’s beginning to feel like a dog tethered to a short rope in a giant yard when the cameraman whistles twice. Akihito is almost grateful to go back inside. _I’m going to go nuts. It hasn’t even been twenty-four hours._ Akihito just hopes he can get at least one decent scoop before he’s sent home – the sooner, the better, regardless of how much they’re paying him.

As soon as he gets inside, a sound like a foghorn comes through the intercom speakers in every room of the house. Akihito chuckles, thinking of the men upstairs being awakened by that noise.

“Attention, bachelors. The first group date will be today. Meet in the drawing room in one hour to find out who will be invited on the first date.”

Akihito heads upstairs to take another shower, but turns around at the top of the stairs as soon as he sees the pandemonium of men hurrying between their rooms and the bathroom. Instead, he heads into the kitchen to make himself some breakfast.

He makes a full pot of coffee, figuring the others will want some. Next, he pops some bread in the toaster and fries a couple of eggs.

“I’ll have some of that,” Kurosaki says as Akihito plates his food.

Akihito looks at him for a second before sighing and saying, “You can have this one.” _I’d better cook more._

He sets up another pan, cooks more eggs, and keeps a steady stream of bread moving through the toaster. As the men trickle down, they gratefully accept plates of food.

Sakazaki looks at his plate. “I prefer scrambled eggs,” he grumbles.

“Feel free to make some for yourself,” Akihito says, gesturing to the second pan that’s now empty.

“I guess this is fine,” Sakazaki says, taking the plate. As he passes behind Akihito, Akihito shifts slightly in case Sakazaki tries to get handsy again, but Sakazaki doesn’t try anything this time.

Asami comes down just as Akihito’s wondering if he’ll have time to eat and shower himself. “How many more are left?” he asks.

“I think Kirishima and Suoh are coming down soon,” Asami says. "Thank you. This is delicious."

Akihito cooks six more eggs. Kirishima and Suoh enter the kitchen just as he’s making the final three plates. Akihito turns off the stove and finally sits down to eat. He’s only taken a few bites when Sudou enters the dining room to see everyone eating. “Where’s mine?” he asks.

“The kitchen’s over there,” Akihito says, pointing.

“Someone cooked all this. Where’s mine?” Sudou asks again.

“Look, I was just making some breakfast for myself, and I made some more as the others came down.”

“But you won’t cook any for me?” Sudou demands.

“Sorry, but I’m already eating, and I still need to shower and get dressed,” Akihito says. He feels a little bad that Sudou got left out, but he’s not feeling particularly inclined to cook for someone who’s being so ungrateful. Especially since he really does need to shower or risk making a fool of himself on national television.

 

Ten minutes later, the foghorn noise comes through the intercom speaker as Akihito finishes pulling his shirt on. He quickly runs some gel through his hair (remembering the hairstylist’s admonishment to use less) and heads to the living room.

Shingo and Momohara are waiting for the men.

“The first group date will be a physical challenge. Ai-chan has selected ‘sky’ over ‘water’ as the theme. Who will be going on the first date with you, Ai-chan?”

Momohara faces the men and takes a deep breath before speaking.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, Asami decided to start things off early. How long will poor Akihito be able to resist? And will he be able to keep this _thing_ with Asami off-camera?
> 
> Next up: the first group date!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Momohara takes half the men on the first group date, a physical challenge with the theme of "sky." Will Akihito get to show off his athletic prowess?
> 
> As he observes more of the other bachelors, Akihito can't shake the feeling that there's a lot more going on behind the scenes than meets the eye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, Momohara decided there wouldn't be any Asami in this one... Hopefully strong!parkour!Aki will make up for it at least a little.
> 
> Original Characters:  
> Hanako: the paper's spy in the production team  
> Nanahara Aoki: the production assistant in charge of Akihito  
> Inagaki Shingo: the host of the show
> 
> Japanese terms:  
> [tatemae](https://blog.gaijinpot.com/honne-tatemae/): the façade you show to the public to hide your real feelings (honne)
> 
> [freeter](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Freeter): someone who lacks full-time employment

“I’m taking half of you on this first group date. The men I have selected are Suoh-san, Liu-san, Sudou-san, Sakazaki-san, Adachi-san, and Takaba-san.” Momohara glances at Akihito and gives him a quick smile when she calls his name.

He blushes as he walks up to the group, discreetly glancing at the one he doesn’t know, Adachi. _He’s not one of the two from the same company trying to get close to Asami. That means they’re both staying behind with Asami today._ He wonders briefly if he should fake an injury to get out of this athletic date, but he doesn’t want to get kicked out of the house. Eying the contestants who are remaining, he comes up with an alternate plan – not one he’s happy about, but he decides to go for it anyway.

“Please go change into athletic apparel,” Shingo tells the men going on the date. “You have ten minutes.”

As Akihito leaves the room, he falls into step with Mitarai, but Mitarai shakes him off. Akihito rolls his eyes but heads to his room to “change.” He’d already dressed in jeans, a t-shirt, and sneakers based on what Shingo had told them about the date, so all he does is swap the jeans for a pair of shorts. He scrawls a quick, coded note to Mitarai. When he goes back downstairs, he sees Mitarai sitting at the table full of dirty dishes, reading a book. Akihito heads into the dining room and slips the note under Mitarai’s book as he starts gathering the dirty dishes from the table.

“You don’t have to do that,” Mitarai says as he casually slips the note into his pocket. “We’ll clean them up later. Go enjoy your date.”

Akihito shrugs. “I’ll work on it until it’s time to leave.” He loads the dishes in the dishwasher, but he can’t figure out how to start it (never having used one before). He hears the noise of a large engine, so he calls to Mitarai, “Can you start the dishwasher, please?”

“Sure, sure,” Mitarai calls back.

Akihito goes to the entrance hall where Shingo is waiting by the front door. “Ai-chan will be selecting who rides in each helicopter.”

The butler opens the door, and the men pile out onto the lawn. The roar of the helicopters is deafening. Momohara heads towards one of them, and the men press around her, hoping to be selected to ride in the same helicopter as her. Akihito hangs towards the back. He’s never even ridden in an airplane before.  He’s excited to ride in the helicopter, but he’s not sure what the proper protocol is for getting on one.

Sudou and Sakazaki are the ones pressing the hardest, and Momohara nearly trips. Shingo catches her, and she holds her hands up. The men stop pushing while they await her decision. Momohara signals Sudou and Sakazaki onto the helicopter, and Sakazaki pumps his fist in triumph.

Momohara shouts at Akihito, “I’m sorry, Takaba-san!” and signals him onto the helicopter.

Akihito understands when Shingo follows him into the chopper while Momohara and the other three men head to the other helicopter.

“Hey! Where’s Ai-chan going?” Sudou shouts indignantly. “I thought we were going to ride with her.”

Shingo gestures to a headset resting on each seat. Akihito puts his on and discovers it blocks much of the noise from the engine. Suddenly he hears Shingo’s voice in his ear. “We can communicate through these headsets. Stand by to receive the instructions from our pilot.”

“But why did Ai-chan get on the other helicopter?” Sudou whines.

“Maybe because you practically knocked her over? Why would she want to ride with someone who was being so rude?” Akihito retorts.

“Don’t act all high and mighty. You’re stuck on this helicopter, too,” Sudou snipes back.

Akihito shrugs. He’s so excited about his first flight, he can’t be bothered to worry about the grumpy model. He loves the thrill of seeing the ground drop away as they rise into the sky and soar over Tokyo. “This is amazing!” he shouts, grinning around at the others.

Shingo smiles back at him, but Sakazaki is looking a little green, and Sudou is still pouting. Akihito turns his attention back to the window. “Damn. I really wish I had my camera.” He presses his face against the window, looking longingly at the Japanese countryside flying past, the clouds’ shadows dappling the rice paddies and suburbs, the sunlight playing on the lakes and rivers…

He feels a tap on his shoulder. “It’s set to camera mode. You can’t access any of the other features,” Shingo says, offering Akihito his own cell phone.

Akihito’s mouth drops open in surprise. “Can I really?”

Shingo nods. “I’ll forward you the pictures after the show ends. Just remember that the show owns the copyright to them, and they might use them sooner.”

Akihito nods and starts snapping away happily. He quickly figures out how to turn off the automatic settings and manually adjust the camera to take better photographs.

“I hope you have a lot of storage on that thing,” Sakazaki tells Shingo as Akihito captures image after image.

Shingo chuckles and shrugs.

“I’ll delete some after we land,” Akihito promises. “Most of them won’t come out good, anyway.”

He gasps as he sees a familiar shape taking form behind the smog. “Are we going to climb Fuji-san?” he asks, wheeling around to look at Shingo.

Shingo’s eyebrows shoot up, but he refuses to answer.

Akihito takes photo after photo as the helicopter circles Japan’s most famous mountain. But soon they’re flying farther away again. They finally land in a clearing on the edge of a forest.

 

A line of men and women in black polo shirts and khaki shorts bows as they exit the helicopters. As soon as the helicopters fly away, the man at the end of the line steps forward and says, “Welcome to Forest Adventure Fuji!”

Akihito takes in the ziplines and obstacles and grins.

 

They have a short wait while the cameras and crew get set up, so Akihito offers to delete some of the photographs off Shingo’s phone while they wait. In thirty minutes, he managed to take over three hundred photos, and he’s feeling a little embarrassed about it. His eyes are practiced, and he’s able to move through them quickly, deleting more than half in less than ten minutes. When the phone rings, he hurriedly hands it back to Shingo.

Sakazaki hurries back to the group from the restroom. He’s looking a little less green now that both feet are on the ground again. “Did I miss anything?” he asks.

“No, we’re still waiting,” Momohara says, smiling at him kindly. “Are you feeling any better?”

“Yes, a little. Thank you,” Sakazaki says.

“Was your flight very bumpy?” Adachi asks.

Sakazaki shrugs. “A little, especially around Fuji-san.”

“I thought it was very smooth. You should see the turbulence you can get in a small-prop plane heading to some of the remote islands. Those sea winds can really toss a plane around. But when the director wants to go to an exotic location, you can’t really say no, right, Ai-chan?” Sudou asks, obviously trying to win points by focusing on their common experience as models.

Momohara shrugs.

“It wasn’t that smooth!” Sakazaki says hotly. “I’m perfectly fine on airplanes.” He turns to Akihito. “There was a lot of turbulence, right?”

Akihito shrugs. “I guess? I don’t really have anything to compare it to.”

The others gape at him. “That was your first flight?” Momohara cries.

Akihito shrugs again. “Yeah.”

“No wonder you took so many pictures,” Shingo says as he rejoins the group.

“Sorry about that again,” Akihito says. “I can delete some more.”

“It’s fine,” Shingo says.

“Oh, I want to see!” Momohara squeals.

Akihito is embarrassed; he doesn’t know if _any_ of the pictures are worth showing to anyone. But he’s saved by the director.

“It’s time for the safety briefing. Come this way, please.”

 

After everyone has practiced attaching their harnesses to the safety lines and learned proper ziplining technique, the group moves over to the adventure course.  They climb the flight of stairs to the first platform.

“Who’s going first?” Shingo asks as they face the first obstacle: a series of suspended wooden discs.

Akihito raises his hand excitedly, then looks around sheepishly. “Unless someone else wants to go first? Momohara-san?”

Ai giggles. “No, go right ahead.”

Akihito first has to wait for one of the cameramen to cross before he can go, but soon enough, it’s his turn. He switches to the obstacle safety line and sprints across the discs, landing nimbly on the next platform. He turns and waves at the others once he’s across.

“Um, is that how you’re supposed to do it?” Adachi asks uncertainly. “I don’t think I can do that.”

“It’s easy,” Sudou scoffs. He stalks towards the obstacle, but his safety line catches and pulls him back.

“You forgot to unhook,” Sakazaki points out unnecessarily.

“I knew that,” Sudou snipes. He switches over to the other line and starts sprinting across the discs. But on the third disc, his foot strikes the edge instead of the middle, and he slides off. He screams as the safety line jerks him as it stops his fall. He clutches the rope, his feet dancing in midair as he yells, “Someone save me!”

None of the others move, so Akihito climbs back across the discs, stopping on the third one, balancing carefully as he crouches down to offer Sudou a hand.

“Save me!” Sudou screams again.

“I’m trying to. Give me your hand.”

“I can’t!”

“Look, the rope has you. You don’t need to hold onto it.”

Sudou looks down and clutches tighter at the rope.

“Look up,” Akihito commands in a calm, authoritative voice. “The rope has you. All you have to do is grab my hand and get your feet back on the platform.”

Sudou looks at Akihito’s face then glances past him at the rope holding them both up. He takes a deep breath, nods, and finally lets go of the rope and reaches for Akihito’s hand. “Pull me up.”

“I’ll help, but you need to help me help you,” Akihito says. “Get your feet up and reach for the platform.”

Sudou starts to look down at his feet.

“No! Don’t look down. Just focus on the platform. Lean back into your harness so you’re sitting, and then bring a foot up. That’s it. Do you see it?”

Sudou nods as his foot reaches for the disc Akihito is standing on.

“There you go. Slow and steady. Up you go!” Akihito pulls Sudou’s hand, and soon they’re both balanced on the third disc.

Sudou grabs onto the safety line with both hands.

“That’s a good idea. Just watch your fingers that they don’t get pinched,” Akihito warns. “You good now?”

Sudou takes another shaky breath and nods.

“Okay, I’m going to head to the next disc. As I step off this one, you need to shift your weight to the middle so you can keep your balance. Then just step across, carefully sticking to the middles. And hold onto the rope.”

Sudou nods.

“Then I’m stepping over in three, two, one, now.” Akihito eases his weight gradually off the third disc as he senses Sudou moving more towards the middle. Once he’s sure Sudou is safe, he crosses back to the landing platform, demonstrating how to do it slowly by holding onto the safety line.

After a moment, Sudou slowly follows behind him. “That wasn’t so bad,” Sudou says when he’s finally on the platform.

“How hard is it, Sudou-san?” Adachi calls across from the other platform.

“It’s easy once you know how to do it,” Sudou calls back. “Just don’t try to imitate the wild child here.” He jerks his thumb in Akihito’s direction.

“Hey! I made it across safely!” Akihito protests. “But yeah, it’s safer to hold on,” he calls to the others. “Remember, the rope will keep you safe. Just take it slow and steady.”

“I’ll go next,” Sakazaki says, obviously keen to redeem himself after his motion sickness episode.

After he’s finished, Liu silently connects his safety harness and leaps catlike from disc to disc.

Shingo says, “Anyone else want to go next?” When no one immediately volunteers, he hooks in and sets across. He doesn’t leap the way Akihito and Liu did, but he makes it across without using his hands. “It’s not so bad, Ai-chan!” he calls across to her. “You can do it!”

Adachi steps back and gestures for Momohara to take her turn, but she shakes her head. “I’d like to see how you do it first, Adachi-san,” she says. Adachi shrugs and works his way across.

Now it’s just Momohara and Suoh remaining. Suoh gestures for Momohara to go first.

“I’d rather go last,” she says.

“If you slip, it would be easier to help you back up with someone behind you and in front of you,” Suoh points out.

Momohara pales slightly but stutters, “That’s t-true, I suppose.” She clips in and walks towards the end of the platform, stopping a foot from the edge.

“You’re afraid of heights, aren’t you?” Suoh asks, whispering to ensure that no one else can hear their conversation over the roar of the drones being used to capture additional footage.

“Maybe a little,” Momohara admits.

“I have a confession to make,” Suoh says. “Me, too. I’m still trying to work up the nerve to go.”

“Maybe we could go together?” Momohara asks.

“Okay,” Suoh agrees. He straps in behind her. “Try not to look down. Just look at the next platform and step on it.”

“How am I supposed to see the next platform and not notice how far away the ground is below it?” Momohara asks.

“No one’s ever been able to explain that to me, either,” Suoh says, chuckling a little. “That’s just what people who don’t care about heights say. But if you can manage it, it does help. Try focusing on the rope instead, and just feel the platform with your foot.”

Momohara does as he suggests, putting one hand in front of the other and pulling herself closer to the edge of the platform. She freezes when she feels the toe of her front foot hanging off the edge of the platform. As soon as she can unfreeze herself, she starts to back up, but Suoh is there, blocking her way.

“Nope. The only way to go is forward,” he tells her.

She gulps but nods.

“Whenever you’re ready, just reach that foot out and feel the next platform. Hold on tight. Remember, you can’t fall. You’re safe.”

Momohara nods again, takes a deep breath, and feels her way across to the first disc. By the third disc, she’s moving a little faster. Suoh keeps pace behind her, helping to stabilize each platform for her as she steps off it. On the final platform, Sudou holds out a hand for Momohara to catch, but she ignores him, raising both arms in triumph as she stands on the platform. “I did it!” she cries.

“Great job!” Akihito cries, but his congratulations are muffled by the other men who swarm towards Momohara to congratulate her. “Back up!” Akihito cries from the far end of the platform as Momohara teeters on the edge.

Suoh reaches from behind her and stiff-arms Sakazaki in the chest, who bumps into Sudou. The two tumble onto the platform. “Cool it,” Suoh says gruffly.

Akihito realizes it’s the first time he’s heard the behemoth speak. He expected Suoh to have a deep voice to match his size, but his voice is surprisingly normal – soft, even. _I guess it suits a P.E. teacher… if he’s really a P.E. teacher._ Akihito still finds Suoh’s closeness with Asami and Kirishima suspicious, especially the way he seems to create a barrier between Asami and everyone else. And didn’t he just do the same with Momohara?

Momohara steps farther onto the platform, then turns and offers a hand to Suoh. He looks surprised but takes it gently as he steps off the last disc.

“Thank you,” he says softly. He releases Momohara’s hand as soon as he finds his balance, but that doesn’t stop the glares from Sudou and Sakazaki, who have finally untangled themselves and are standing again.

“Alright, who’s going first on the next obstacle?” Shingo asks, clapping his hands.

“Let the wild child do it,” Sudou snipes.

Akihito glowers at Sudou. He doesn’t appreciate the nickname, especially since Sudou doesn’t look that much older than him.

“What, afraid you can’t do it?” Sudou taunts.

Akihito looks at the widely spaced rungs of the horizontal ladder. “Of course I can do it,” he says. “I just thought maybe someone else would like a turn at going first.”

The others all shrug or shake their heads, so Akihito eyes the obstacle, measuring the distance between the wooden rungs in preparation for bounding across.

“You going kamikaze style again?” Sakazaki asks.

Akihito hesitates. He’s supposed to be working towards getting a rose so he can stay at the house and get the scoop. But so far, he’s barely talked to Momohara. He sighs and walks across the obstacle instead, showing how it can be safely navigated by holding onto the safety line.

He watches Adachi follow his example successfully. Once they’re on the platform alone, Adachi whispers to him, “Don’t let Sudou-san and Sakazaki-san get you down. Ai-chan said her biggest pet peeve is people speaking rudely of others. Besides, we’re the ones closest to her in age. I really think the rest are too old for her.”

“You’re a big fan of hers,” Akihito observes.

Adachi shrugs and grins sheepishly. “Yeah. I know so much about her, but somehow I find it really hard to talk to her.”

“You might not want to tell her that,” Akihito suggests. “I mean, tell her you feel shy because she’s so pretty, or whatever. Just don’t tell her you’ve memorized all her interviews.”

“I never said I did! How did you know?” Adachi asks.

Akihito shrugs, distracted by Liu’s turn on the obstacle.

“Does he know Japanese?” Adachi whispers.

“Yeah, I think so.” Akihito thinks back to the introductions. “Yeah, he spoke to me last night. Besides, I don’t think he’d have gotten a rose if he couldn’t speak to Momohara-san.”

Akihito watches jealously as Liu gracefully bounds across the horizontal ladder.

Adachi shrugs. “I guess so. But he hasn’t said anything since we left the house.”

Akihito ponders the strange martial artist who chose to sleep alone instead of in one of the assigned sleeping quarters. _I need to figure out his story, too._

“Nice job,” Akihito says to Liu when he reaches the platform, but Liu ignores him.

It starts to get a little crowded on the platform after the next two make it across. The next obstacle is a short rock-climbing wall up to the zipline. Akihito decides to move on so that Momohara doesn’t get pushed off the platform again. He frowns at the holds; they’re set up almost like a ladder, and close enough together for children to reach. _Where’s the challenge?_

He notices two holds off to the side from the ladder arrangement. Both are pink. Akihito studies the holds again and suddenly grins. There are a handful of other pink holds. The person who set the wall embedded a harder route made of just the pink holds for those who know how to climb.

“I’m moving up,” he tells the others absentmindedly, his mind already focused on figuring out the best method for tackling the challenging route.

Sudou follows close behind him. “Show-off,” Sudou mutters when he reaches the top.

Akihito shrugs. He wasn’t trying to show off, but this is the closest he’ll get to a good parkour spot until he leaves the house, and he’s going to take full advantage of it. Or as full advantage as he can while having to demonstrate proper technique to the others.

 

Once they’re all assembled on the zipline platform, Akihito once again offers to let someone else go first.

“Are you going to do this on every single obstacle?” Sudou asks, rolling his eyes. “It’s already getting annoying. You’re the only eager beaver here, so just go ahead and go first.”

“I don’t really _want_ to go first,” Akihito says.

“Then I’ll go,” Liu says. He grabs the bar and takes off down the zipline.

“He speaks!” Adachi mouths at Akihito, eyes wide with amazement, and Akihito nearly busts up.

“What’s so funny?” Sudou demands, eyes narrowed in suspicion. “I’m not scared to go! I’ll go next!” he grabs the bar and emits a high-pitched shriek the entire way down. It’s hard to see, but it looks like he hit the mulch pile at the end hard. He stands and brushes at the back side of his white shorts the entire time it takes for Sakazaki and Adachi to go.

“You going?” Shingo asks Akihito.

“After you,” Akihito says, stepping back and gesturing with a hand. After Sudou’s attitude, he’s determined to go last this time.

“I’m a little worried the ones down there are going to try to crowd you while you’re landing,” Suoh tells Momohara.

“If they do, she’ll just mow them over,” Akihito says, grinning a little at the mental image of Momohara kicking Sudou right in the gut and sending him flying.

“I don’t want to do that!” Momohara says.

“Momohara-san could get hurt if she did that,” Suoh says, glaring at Akihito.

Akihito holds up his hands. “Okay, fine. I don’t really think anyone would be so stupid to get in her way as she’s coming in, but if it makes you feel better, feel free to go first and hold everyone else back. You did a good job of that earlier.”

Suoh frowns. “I’d rather help her at this end.”

Akihito blinks for a few seconds, waiting for Suoh to say something more. After a moment, he gets it. “Oh! Okay, then I’ll go next and make sure everyone stays back.”

Suoh grunts, which Akihito takes as an affirmative.

Akihito grabs onto the bar and leaps off the platform. Soon the trees are rushing by, and he’s filled with the greatest thrill he’s ever experienced. _This_ is what flying is supposed to feel like. The helicopter was exciting enough, and the views were spectacular, but the sensation wasn’t really that different from riding in a train or a car. But _this_ – well, Akihito doesn’t have time to stop and put the exhilaration he’s feeling into words; he can only experience it with all his senses and hope that his mind can remember it in vivid detail later.

Too soon, the zipline is slowing down as the ground approaches. Akihito manages to run out the end without falling to the ground.

“That was amazing!” he whoops.

Shingo gestures for him to detach from the zipline, and Akihito remembers the agreement he made with Suoh up at the top. _Is he a bodyguard? But who is he protecting, Asami or Momohara-san? Or both?_

As Akihito predicted, he doesn’t have any trouble keeping the others back as Momohara lands.

 

The group continues climbing obstacles and ziplining back to the ground for the next two hours. Somehow, Akihito keeps finding himself the first to go for all the obstacles, while going just before Momohara for all the ziplines, but he gives up worrying about it and just goes with the flow after a brief conversation with Momohara.

After the second zipline, Momohara pulls Akihito aside briefly. “I can tell you’re really holding yourself back on the obstacles all of a sudden. You don’t have to do that.”

“What do you mean?” Akihito bluffs.

“You’re not very good at _tatemae_ , are you?” Momohara giggles a little. “It’s really obvious you’re not enjoying the obstacles the way you did the first one.”

“But this way everyone can see how it’s done,” Akihito explains.

“Oh!” Momohara’s eyes widen in surprise. “You don’t have to do that, silly! We’ll figure it out. Besides, it’s more fun to watch you go at them kamikaze-style.” She giggles again, and Akihito laughs with her after a moment.

After that, he just forgets about roses, hidden motives, and even sarcastic models. Instead, Akihito relaxes and enjoys the experience. The last obstacle is the most fun. It’s called the Tarzan Swing, and you freefall until the rope catches you, swinging into a cargo net. Akihito is the only one who manages to catch the cargo net on the first try; even Liu misses (though he catches it the second try and looks disappointed in himself).

Shingo leads them to a large picnic table set with tablecloth, fine china, candlesticks, and a veritable feast. As they’re eating, Shingo guides the conversation. “Ai-chan, who surprised you the most today?”

She thinks for a moment. “I think it would have to be Takaba-san. I figured Suoh-san and Liu-san would do well given their professions, but Takaba-san is a really talented athlete, too.”

Akihito turns pink to the roots of his hair.

“When you’re a freeter, you’ve got a ton of free time to focus on yourself,” Sudou snipes.

“I’m not –” Akihito cuts off mid-sentence, remembering that according to the show, he _is_ a freeter. _Stupid Editor. Why couldn’t I have a real job like Mitarai?_ “I have my own apartment,” he says, changing tack. “I pay my own bills.”

“Were you on a sports team in school?” Momohara asks, tactfully changing the subject.

“No, I was in the go-home club,” Akihito jokes, inwardly groaning as soon as the words are out of his mouth. _Can you not make yourself sound even lazier, Akihito?_ “I helped out sometimes with the student paper and yearbook, though,” he mumbles, trying to redeem himself.

“With your photography?” Momohara asks.

Akihito nods and shrugs.

“Where did you learn to do all those cool tricks?” Adachi asks. “That backflip you did after the Tarzan Swing was awesome!”

Akihito shrugs again. “I don’t know. I started doing parkour in high school, and it’s come in handy for my job.”

“You have to climb buildings working in a convenience store?” Sakazaki asks skeptically.

Akihito wants to facepalm, but he tries to recover. “Parkour isn’t necessarily climbing buildings; it’s about finding the most efficient way to move from one place to another. And it came in handy for my last job, when I was a delivery driver.”

“You have a license?” Momohara looks impressed, as does Adachi – and maybe even Liu.

“Just a motorcycle one,” Akihito explains. “How did you like the course, Momohara-san? You looked a little nervous in the beginning, but you seemed to be enjoying it by the end.”

Momohara accepts the change in topic, and Akihito shoots her a grateful look.

 

The flight back to the house gives Akihito a headache. The seating arrangements on the way back are the same as the way there, except Shingo and Momohara swap places, which means that Akihito has to listen to Sudou’s wheedling and bragging interspersed with Sakazaki’s occasional interjections that cause both of them to engage in testosterone-driven posturing that makes Momohara roll her eyes at Akihito.

Akihito tries a couple of times to change the conversation, but it just ramps up the others’ aggressiveness, so Momohara hands him her cell phone and orders him to take some good pictures. He happily obliges, especially as they near Tokyo and the setting sun paints watercolors on the western countryside, contrasting with the bright patterns of light and dark formed by the neatly ordered skyscrapers.

Remembering his embarrassment over all the photos he took on Shingo’s phone (which he finally managed to delete all but ten of during their feast), Akihito pauses after each picture to assess it before taking the next one.

As they land on the lawn of the house, Akihito hands Momohara back her phone. She scrolls through the pictures as the helicopters depart. “Wow, Takaba-san, these are great! You should make photography more than just a hobby!”

“I’d like to,” Akihito says, “but it’s hard nowadays with cell phones having such good cameras.” He gestures at hers.

“No way could I take these with my phone!” Momohara cries. She shows a picture to Shingo. “Isn’t this incredible?”

“It _was_ taken with your phone,” Akihito points out. “I just had to use the manual settings instead of the auto-focus.”

Shingo clears his throat. “We’re running a little behind schedule. It’s time for the rose ceremony.”

Akihito gulps. _Did I do enough to stay?_ The jokes about him being a “wild child” had continued to escalate throughout the day, and that surely couldn’t have made a very good impression on Momohara.

Shingo leads them to the small, locked garden where they had their “first impression” meetings with Momohara. Resting on a tall concrete stand is a vase containing a single red rose. Akihito gulps again. _Does that mean only one of us gets to stay? Won’t that make the show too short?_

Shingo explains, “The person who receives the group date rose will be guaranteed to stay in the competition for next week. Everyone else will have to wait for this week’s final rose ceremony to find out if they will stay. Ai-chan, have you reached your decision?”

Momohara nods. “One person demonstrated considerable bravery today, facing his fear of heights head on. He focused on encouraging me instead of worrying about his own fears. Suoh-san, will you accept this rose?”

Suoh turns slightly pink as he walks up to accept the rose. “Thank you, Momohara-san,” he mumbles.

Akihito is puzzled. _That guy is supposedly afraid of heights? He never even hesitated, not even on the first obstacle. Wow, he’s a bad liar. But if Momohara-san fell for it, I guess I can’t really call him out._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew. The chapter ran a little longer than I expected, but there are a lot of plot bunnies hopping around in this one, and I really wanted to end it at the rose ceremony.
> 
> Forest Adventure Fuji is a real place, but I've never been there. I based my description of it on information I gleaned from [their website](http://fa-fuji.foret-aventure.jp/eng/) and reviews. I really want to go there someday, though! (As well as [this obstacle course in Akita](http://en.japantravel.com/akita/ninja-training-grounds/2777), which I decided was a little too far away and didn't quite capture "sky" the way a zipline course would.)
> 
> Oh, and the helicopters are Sikorsky S-76s, most likely. (I've never been in a helicopter before, either, but a tourism site listed that model as appropriate for both aerial photography and passenger transport - with a 6- to 8- person luxury version - so it seemed appropriate. A helicopter tour of Tokyo and Mt. Fuji is over ¥500 thousand/5000 USD, by the way!)
> 
> Edit: My new chapters keep being backdated instead of set to today's date. Did I accidentally click something that's making this happen all of a sudden?


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Akihito finally gets a chance to talk more with Ai-chan. After the group date, he searches the house for a more private place to bathe, but what will happen when Asami discovers him there? And when Akihito tries to investigate for his undercover assignment, what will he find? Or will he be caught before he can find anything?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Asami is apparently beginning-of-the-manga Asami here; some of the dialogue lines were borrowed directly from the early chapters of the manga.
> 
> I guess I should put a warning in for dubious consent (or more precisely, consent isn't asked for but is instead assumed).
> 
> Thanks to everyone who reads, gives kudos, subscribes, and/or leaves comments. It really helps me stay motivated to write.
> 
> Original Characters:  
> Hanako: the paper's spy in the production team  
> Nanahara Aoki: the production assistant in charge of Akihito  
> Inagaki Shingo: the host of the show  
> Adachi: one of the salaryman bachelors who went on the ziplining group date and knows a lot about Ai-chan

After the rose ceremony, Momohara lingers for a few minutes to talk to the men who went on the date with her. Akihito stands there awkwardly, not really knowing what to say, but Sudou asks if he can talk to Momohara privately.

“This is really an opportunity for me to talk to everyone,” Momohara tells him.

“I know. I’ll only take a moment.”

Akihito asks Momohara with his eyes if she wants him to stay nearby, but she gives him a subtle half-shrug and heads off to a corner of the garden with Sudou. Akihito stands on the other side of the rosebushes, pretending to be absorbed in the scenery. He holds his hands up in a rectangle as if he’s imagining taking photos of the plants while he strains to listen. He can only hear snippets of Momohara’s and Sudou’s conversation as the chatter of the men behind him ebbs and flows.

“… reflecting on my behavior…”

“… deeply sorry…”

“… not usually like this…”

“… stress of the competition…”

Akihito has to give Sudou credit; he’s certainly one smooth talker when he wants to be.

Not long after Momohara comes back, Sakazaki also asks for a private moment. Momohara decides she’ll give each man a couple of minutes in turn.

Akihito takes the last turn.

“You’re the only normal person here, Takaba-san,” Momohara sighs by way of greeting.

Akihito’s not sure if that’s a good thing. “What do you mean?”

Momohara frowns. “I’m not sure. For some reason, I felt like I could trust you as soon as I met you. But everyone else seems to be…” She frowns as she searches for the words to describe it. “Putting on an act, I guess.”

“I don’t think any of us are used to being in front of cameras. Well, besides you and Sudou-san, I suppose. I know I’m a lot more nervous and awkward than I usually am – or at least than I _think_ I usually am.”

“Maybe that’s the difference: you let what you’re feeling show. I’m used to people pretending around me all the time. I thought this show would give me a chance to really get to know people in a safe environment, but I hardly get to talk to anyone.”

“It’s still early. Give it time,” Akihito encourages her.

“I just feel bad that I have to send some of you home before I really get to know you. I mean, I had two minutes with each of you the first time, and even after the date today, I don’t feel any more ready to make a decision, and I won’t get another chance to really talk to any of you before the rose ceremony.”

“We understood that’s how it would work when we joined the show,” Akihito says. “It’ll be okay. Just do the best you can.”

“I just wish I could see how you all interact with each other,” Momohara says. “It’s easy to act one way in front of me, but I’d love to see how you get along when I’m not there. I feel like it would give me a clearer sense of your true personalities.” She frowns again.

“The cameras are there all the time,” Akihito says. “Ask the director. Maybe he’ll let you see some of the footage.”

“Really? That’s a great idea! Thanks, Takaba-san!”

“And maybe…” Akihito trails off.

“Yes?”

Akihito shrugs. “I was thinking maybe you’d like to join us for dinner this evening? I don’t know if it’s allowed, though.”

Momohara’s smile brightens. “That would be nice. Everyone might be more relaxed, too.”

“Is there anything you can’t eat?” Akihito asks.

“I’m not picky, but I don’t like to eat anything too heavy.”

Akihito leads the way to the director, who agrees to the plan.

“Let’s plan for three hours from now,” Akihito says.

“Do I need to bring anything?” Momohara asks.

“No need. We’ve got a fully stocked kitchen.”

 

Akihito follows the other bachelors from the group date into the house. Sudou, Sakazaki, and Adachi stay in the living room to answer the questions from Kurosaki and the two salarymen from the same company, but Akihito heads to the kitchen to figure out what he can make for dinner. His mom made sure he knew how to cook, and now he enjoys it. If any of the others want to help, he’ll gladly accept it, but if not, he can cook dinner for 20 people (assuming Shingo and the videographers want to eat, too) by himself.

Akihito’s ruminations about what to cook for dinner are rudely interrupted when he sees the state of the kitchen. Dirty dishes are piled in the sink and on the counters. Some kind of brown sauce is splattered across the stove, cabinets, counters, and floor. A variety of food parcels are sitting open on the counter – half of which should be in the refrigerator.

Akihito looks at Mitarai, who’s sitting at the dining room table. “What the heck happened in here?”

Mitarai glances up from his book. “Did you have a good date?” he asks.

“Never mind that. What happened to the kitchen?” Akihito asks again.

Mitarai shrugs as he finally looks over and sees the mess. “Not sure. It wasn’t like that when I made my onigiri for lunch. Asami-san and Kirishima-san were already eating when I made them, so I guess it was Kurosaki-sensei or the other two.”

Akihito opens the dishwasher. “Did you remember to start it? The dishes aren’t clean,” he says.

“Oops, I forgot,” Mitarai says. “But there should be plenty of time to run it before dinner, right? You were gone for so long, I assume you ate on your date.”

Akihito glares at Mitarai. For some reason, the way he says the word “date” makes it sound like he’s mocking Akihito. But Mitarai is already absorbed in his book again.

Akihito sighs. He wonders whether he should confront the other men, but since he doesn’t really know who it was, he doesn’t want to start making accusations. He starts with the food items. The ones that belong in the fridge are still cold, so he starts putting them away. He suddenly gets a prickly feeling on the back of his neck. When he turns around, Asami, Suoh, and Kirishima, dressed in workout clothes, are standing in the dining room, peering into the kitchen. Asami is staring at Akihito with a look that reminds him of the way the lion in the zoo gazes at the gazelles in the next enclosure.

“What happened in here?” Asami asks.

Akihito shrugs. “No idea. It was like this when I got back, but if we want to eat dinner…” He shrugs again.

“I’ll help,” Kirishima offers.

“Thanks.” As Akihito continues putting things away, he hears footsteps enter the kitchen.

“Here,” a deep voice says.

Akihito takes the milk automatically even as his head swivels to meet those intense amber eyes. He nearly drops the jug of milk, but Asami catches it and reaches past him to put it in the fridge. Akihito glances wildly around, but the two are alone. Even Mitarai has abandoned his reading.

“I thought Kirishima-san…” Akihito trails off lamely.

“He has something else to work on right now. Would you rather I don’t help?” Asami asks, smirking.

Akihito can’t tear his eyes away from Asami’s. He can feel his face heating up as he stammers, “No. I mean, yes. I mean, thank you for the help.”

The kitchen is ridiculously huge by Japanese standards, and yet somehow Asami keeps passing close behind Akihito as they work together to clean the kitchen. Occasionally, Asami’s hand brushes against Akihito’s backside. Akihito starts bracing himself for it, but it only seems to happen when he’s least expecting it.

Akihito is slowly getting desperate as he feels himself grow more and more flustered, and Asami’s smirk grows wider. Akihito racks his brain for a distraction. “Do you know how to start the dishwasher?” he asks.

Asami opens the dishwasher.

“I already figured out where to put the soap,” Akihito says.

“What soap did you use?” Asami asks.

Akihito shows him the dishwashing soap on the counter next to the sink.

“That’s what I was afraid of. You can’t use that in the machine. It will make too many suds.”

Akihito looks at him. “What do you mean, ‘too many’?” He grabs a paper towel and starts wiping up the soap in the dispenser while Asami searches the cabinet under the sink for the correct detergent.

“They’ll overflow the machine and cover the floor,” Asami says.

Akihito looks up at Asami, who’s still rummaging around under the sink. After a moment, Asami pulls out a container that’s right in the front.

“Have you done that before?” Akihito asks.

Asami’s expression doesn’t change as he hands Akihito the box of detergent.

Akihito starts giggling. “You totally have! I actually kind of want to see what happens! Do you have pictures?”

“No,” Asami says shortly. “Are we done here?” He looks around the kitchen, which is finally in order.

“Yeah, I guess,” Akihito says. “Thanks for your help.”

Asami wanders off down the hallway, but Akihito heads up the stairs. He wants to take a bath before he starts cooking dinner, but when he passes the bathroom and hears Sakazaki and Sudou’s voices coming from that room, Akihito sighs. He’s beginning to feel like a rat in a cage. He glances out the window over the stairs towards freedom.

And sees the pool.

A grin sweeps over Akihito’s face. _There’s probably an area to wash up near the pool and onsen._

He grabs his shower stuff, jeans, and a t-shirt before heading back downstairs.

When he enters the onsen changing room, he’s delighted to see individual bathing stations.

_This is perfect! I wonder how long before the others discover this?_

Akihito rinses off quickly and decides to take a quick soak in the onsen. He can feel some tension in his shoulders from all the stress of the past twenty-four hours.

Akihito heads outside with a towel wrapped around his waist, washcloth in hand. He removes the towel and slips into the large, warm bath. He sits on the ledge and leans his head back against the edge. The onsen was designed perfectly for this position, and Akihito has to remind himself not to get _too_ cozy and fall asleep. He dips his washcloth in the water, folds it, and places it over his eyes, giving a deep, contented sigh.

_I could get used to this._

He doesn’t know how long he’s been in the bath before he hears the door slide open. He pulls his washcloth from his eyes to see who’s there, but it takes a moment for his eyes to adjust to the bright sunlight again.

By the time he can see, Asami is standing five feet away, stark naked. Akihito takes in the well-defined muscles, sculpted abs, long frame, and lean waist.

_If I had a body like that, maybe I’d parade around like that, too._

Akihito gulps.

“Like what you see?” Asami asks, smirking.

“Wh-what are you talking about?” Akihito stammers. He looks away. “I was just surprised, that’s all. And my eyes are still adjusting to the light,” he explains lamely as he blushes furiously.

“You’re more muscular than I thought,” Asami says. He slips into the bath and sits right next to Akihito.

“It’s a big bath,” Akihito says, shifting closer to the corner.

“It is,” Asami says. He leans his head back, and Akihito sighs in relief that Asami doesn’t come closer again.

But Akihito can’t completely relax. He leans his head back but foregoes the washcloth this time.

“Relax. It’s just a bath,” Asami says.

After a few minutes, Akihito lets his eyes close. But within seconds, he’s sitting up again with a yelp. “Where are you touching?” he demands.

“Quiet down,” Asami says. His hand moves farther up Akihito’s thigh. “You’re hard again,” he observes as his hand wanders even farther.

Akihito blushes. “The water’s warm.”

 _Shit. Why_ am _I hard? I’ve never gotten an erection in an onsen before._

Then again, what’s to get excited about, seeing a bunch of wrinkly old men?

 _Akihito, what’s to get excited about_ here _?_ he asks himself. “I’m just tired,” he rationalizes aloud.

“Tired. Is that what they’re calling it these days?” Asami asks. He wraps his hand around Akihito’s member.

“What are you doing?” Akihito gasps.

“Giving you a helping hand,” Asami says.

“No thanks,” Akihito says, shifting as far away as he can. But soon he’s bumping into the corner, and Asami takes the opportunity to place one hand on either side of Akihito, effectively trapping him in place. “What do you want, bastard?” Akihito demands.

“If you make too much of a fuss, the people in the pool will hear you,” Asami says.

Akihito freezes, registering for the first time the quiet voices on the other side of the onsen privacy wall. “Why are you doing this? I’m a guy, you know!” he whispers fiercely.

“I’m aware,” Asami says, his hand reaching down into the water again.

Akihito tenses in anticipation, but Asami’s hand doesn’t connect with his body. Akihito can’t see it through the opaque water, but he can sense that it’s close.

“You wanted to know more about me, right?” Asami asks. “I’ll tell you, then.”

Akihito glares up at him. “Go ahead. I’ll get a scoop so big on you, there won’t be enough money you can throw at the publishers to stop it.”

He gasps when Asami’s hand brushes against him again.

“What are you doing?” Akihito asks again, his glare intensifying.

“My hand hasn’t moved,” Asami says. “But you obviously missed it.”

 _He doesn’t show that smirk to the cameras,_ Akihito notices. But he becomes aware that he’s no longer resting on the ledge of the onsen.

_When did I rise up? And why?_

The thought drifts away as a pleasurable sensation overtakes Akihito. Asami reaches under and supports Akihito’s buttocks with his free hand.

Akihito’s hands scrabble to find purchase, and he finds himself holding onto Asami’s muscular shoulders.

_What am I doing?_

The question flits through Akihito’s mind, but he’s too far gone to worry about the answer right now.

“When I see a brat as weak and cheeky as you, I can’t help but want to mess with you. You’re too cute,” Asami says in Akihito’s ear, causing a shiver to run down Akihito’s spine.

“I’m not weak,” Akihito protests automatically. He’s nearing the edge, but suddenly he remembers where they are. “I’m going to –” he gasps.

“It’s okay. Go ahead.”

“Not – in – water.” Akihito’s face contorts as he desperately tries to hold himself back.

Asami uses both hands to lift him out of the water, setting him down on the edge of the onsen. The pressure inside Akihito eases a bit, but when Asami’s mouth replaces the spot his hand had momentarily abandoned, Akihito’s mind goes blank.

 

When his senses return to him, Akihito glowers at Asami. “Just where did you put your finger?”

“It felt good, didn’t it?” Asami smirks.

It felt mind-blowing, but that wasn’t the point. “Bastard,” Akihito says. “When I finally catch you in my viewfinder, you’ll be dog food.” He stomps into the onsen changing room, stopping just long enough to throw his towel around his waist and grab his shower supplies and clothes. He can still hear Asami’s chuckle as Akihito rushes back inside the house.

As he nears the top of the stairs, Akihito hears Sakazaki and Sudou’s voices, among others, coming from the bathroom. Akihito can’t face anyone right now, so he marches to his bedroom. _It’s ridiculous we don’t have doors. We’re entitled to some privacy._

Akihito grabs the blanket from his bed and wedges it into the pockets where the doors should have been.  He quickly gets dressed, not knowing how long the blanket will stay up, but it actually appears relatively stable. He pulls out his mini-cam, notebook, and recording pen, stashing the pen and notebook in his back pocket, but keeping the mini-cam out.

He quickly eases open Asami’s suitcase, checking inside the shoes and feeling around the edges for secret compartments. Akihito only dares to spend a minute searching, and he doesn’t find anything unusual in that time. He eyes Kirishima’s and Suoh’s suitcases but decides he’d better leave them for later. After checking to make sure everything looks the same, he pulls the blanket down and puts it back on his bed. _I should air out the futon tomorrow._

Akihito heads back to the kitchen. As he assesses what food is available, he jots down ideas for dinner in his notebook. Once he’s settled on a menu, he sets to cooking.

 

A half hour later, Kirishima joins him in the kitchen. “Do you need any help?”

“Sure,” Akihito says. “Here’s the menu I’ve planned. What do you think?”

Kirishima frowns as he reads the list.

“It’s not too late if you want to change something,” Akihito says. “I’ve only put on the rice and started doing some of the prep work.”

“No, this is fine. Well balanced nutritionally and flavor-wise. Is there an apron?” Kirishima asks.

Akihito shrugs but starts opening drawers. When he finds one, he hands it to Kirishima. “Do you know how to cook?” Akihito asks.

“Of course.”

Kirishima is methodical and precise in the kitchen, if a little slow. He doesn’t fuss at Akihito’s more carefree style, but the furrow between his eyebrows grows deeper and deeper as they work together.

Once they’re at a decent stopping point, Akihito asks if Kirishima minds watching things for the next five minutes so Akihito can tell everyone else when dinner will be ready.

He finds most of the men lounging next to the pool. “Dinner will be ready in half an hour,” he tells them.

One of the salarymen from the same company says, “I’m really not that hungry right now. Can you save mine for later?”

Akihito remembers he hasn’t gotten a chance to ask Mitarai whether he found anything out about the salarymen while Akihito was on the group date. He shrugs. “I’ll save a plate for you with instructions on how to heat it.”

“I’d like the same please,” the other salaryman says.

A few of the others echo his statement. Akihito looks around at them. “Momohara-san is going to be disappointed so few people want to eat with her.”

Sudou throws down his magazine. “Ai-chan is coming to dinner? Are you trying to sabotage us?”

“It’s casual,” Akihito tries to explain, but Sudou is already leading a stampede upstairs.

Akihito returns to the dining room. “Er, Kirishima-san, sorry, apparently I forgot to mention that Momohara-san is coming to dinner. If you need to go get ready…” He trails off at the confused look Kirishima sends him over a stack of plates. “Or maybe not… Anyway, do you know where Asami-san, Suoh-san, and Liu-san are? They weren’t out with the others when I went to tell them.”

“The last time I saw them, they were upstairs,” Kirishima says as he folds napkins into swans.

Akihito trots up the stairs, sidestepping the scrim at the bathroom door. He peeks in his bedroom, but it’s empty, so he knocks on the door of the study Fei Long claimed as his own.

_How come he gets a door?_

He’s about to turn away and search elsewhere when Suoh opens the door a crack. “Yes?”

“Um, I came to tell you that dinner will be ready in twenty-five minutes. Momohara-san is coming.”

“Thank you.” Suoh starts to close the door again.

“Wait! Are Liu-san and Asami in there?”

“Yes, I’ll pass along your message. Unless you need something else?” Suoh raises the one eyebrow Akihito can see through the crack in the door.

“Thanks. That’s everything,” Akihito says. When he sees that everyone else is putting on suits and ties, he groans. He decides to head to his room and put on a nicer t-shirt and a button-down over it since the evening is growing chilly. He can’t see the camera in the hall from the corner near the foot of his futon, so he figures the camera won’t be able to see him there. He’s just pulled off his old t-shirt when Asami enters the room.

Akihito’s face feels like someone doused it in gasoline and held a lit match to it. He quickly grabs his fresh t-shirt and starts to pull it on.

The t-shirt is blocking his face when Akihito’s arms are yanked up. Asami’s face is mere inches from his and coming closer, and suddenly Akihito’s fantasy from this morning comes true as Asami’s lips claim his.

The kiss is so intense, Akihito feels like his tongue is going to rip. When Asami finally breaks the kiss, Akihito can taste blood.

Asami leans in and whispers in his ear, “Naughty boy, you went through my luggage. Did you find what you were looking for?”

Akihito gapes at him, shocked.

_How did Asami know?_

Asami grabs a tie and pocket square and is heading back out of the room before Akihito can gather himself to try to answer. He pulls his button-down on and rushes back to the kitchen to help put the finishing touches on dinner.

 

Dinner is a relatively pleasant affair. Everyone seems to enjoy the dishes Akihito and Kirishima prepared, and since the word has gotten out that Momohara likes nice people, everyone is trying to be on their best behavior in front of her. Akihito and Kirishima got a pretty good start on the preparation dishes before dinner, but when Momohara leads by example, offering to clean up the remaining dishes, the men practically trip over each other to help, and the kitchen is restored to order in record time.

After dinner, Shingo leads them to the drawing room. “It’s time for Ai-chan to announce the person she’s selected to go on the first solo date with tomorrow,” he says.

Momohara stares at the wall above their heads as she says, “The person I selected went above and beyond to help take care of a mess caused by others instead of leaving it all to one person. Asami-san, would you like to go on a solo date with me?”

Asami murmurs, “Thank you, Momohara-san.”

Ai finally lowers her gaze to make eye contact with someone: Akihito. She gives him a quick wink.

_Why is she winking at me?_

He doesn’t have long to wonder because in the next moment, Ai doubles over and projectile-vomits all over the floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So now we know why Kurosaki couldn't find Asami in the upstairs bathroom last night.
> 
> I'll give the two salarymen from the same company (who were sent to talk to Asami) names soon (hopefully next chapter).


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The bachelors try to figure out what's wrong with Ai-chan. Meanwhile, Akihito continues to investigate the other bachelors. What does he discover about Asami? And what is Liu Fei Long up to?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is an alt-universe to the manga. Flower in the High Loft didn't happen, so Fei Long's father is still alive.
> 
> Warning for language in this chapter (Aki's got a potty mouth).
> 
> Thanks to everyone who reads, gives kudos, subscribes, and/or leaves comments. It really helps me stay motivated to write.
> 
> Original Characters:  
> Hanako: the paper's spy in the production team  
> Nanahara Aoki: the production assistant in charge of Akihito  
> Inagaki Shingo: the host of the show  
> Adachi: one of the salaryman bachelors who went on the ziplining group date and knows a lot about Ai-chan  
> Tachibana and Takahashi: two salarymen from the same company, on a company mission that has something to do with Asami
> 
> Japanese phrases:  
> "like goldfish droppings": clingy, sticking to someone (the way goldfish droppings stick to a goldfish and follow it around, apparently… I was searching for a Japanese idiom that meant “clingy,” and it was too perfect not to use)

Most of the men take a step back from the splattering vomit, but Akihito is standing to the side, so he heads towards Momohara to assist her. Before he can reach her, however, Shingo is pulling her hair back and holding her shoulders as the actress continues to puke.

Akihito runs to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water. When he returns, Momohara is finally finished, and Shingo is helping her to a couch. She looks shaky and pale, and fine beads of perspiration are clinging to her forehead. Akihito steps between her and the camera as he hands her the water.

The cameraman (the same one who made Akihito run in circles this morning) tries to reposition so he can get a close-up of Momohara’s face, but Akihito continues to get in his way. “Give her some space,” Akihito snaps.

He notices a brief flash of light from his right side. When he glances over his shoulder, he sees Mitarai slide something into his pocket.

Momohara takes the bottle of water from Akihito. “Thanks.”

“Wait! Don’t drink that!” Adachi shouts.

Everyone – including all the cameras – swivel in his direction.

“It might be poisoned,” Adachi warns.

Akihito tries not to roll his eyes. “It’s just water,” he says. “Look, the top’s still sealed.”

Adachi takes the bottle from Momohara, reads the label, tests the cap, and finally opens it. “Here,” he says, handing it back to her sheepishly.

“That’s a good point,” Sakazaki says. “Takaba-kun cooked. He obviously gave Ai-chan food poisoning. He should leave her alone already.”

“I didn’t give her food poisoning!” Akihito objects. “No one else is sick, right?  Anyway, the important thing is to make sure Momohara-san is okay.” He turns to her and asks, “Are you feeling any better?”

She nods but keeps one hand over her mouth.

Akihito jogs across the room to where a fancy vase decorates a corner. When he picks it up, he realizes it’s actually plastic. _Well, it’s nice and lightweight._ He jogs back and hands it to Momohara-san.

“I’m going to escort Ai-chan back to her residence,” Shingo says. “I’ll let you know whether the date will proceed tomorrow or needs to be postponed.”

Shingo helps Momohara to her feet and leads her out the door with an arm around her waist for support. She clutches the vase, and she’s only made it two steps off the porch (where the bachelors have gathered to shout encouragement and advice) before she stops, bending over the vase. Shingo holds her hair back again, and soon they’re making their way down the walkway. The director ushers the bachelors back inside the house and into the windowless drawing room.

“I hope Momohara-san is okay,” Akihito tells Adachi.

“Me, too. But that kind of forceful vomiting in adults is usually caused by some kind of poisoning,” Adachi says quietly.

“You mean food poisoning?” Akihito asks. “I know how to cook.”

“Not necessarily food poisoning,” Adachi clarifies.

“You think Momohara-san was poisoned?!” Akihito exclaims.

“It’s a possibility,” Adachi says.

After Akihito’s exclamation, everyone else starts listening in.

“You should kick Takaba-kun off the show then,” Sudou says. “If anyone poisoned Ai-chan, it would have been him.”

Before Akihito can protest, Adachi speaks up. “That’s not strictly true. Takaba-san served the food, but we passed the plates down the table, and he wouldn’t have known which was going to be Ai-san’s. But anyone who was passing the plates along had the opportunity to slip something into her food.”

“I was sitting on the wrong side of Ai-chan,” Sakazaki quickly says. “I didn’t touch her plate.”

“Me neither,” several of the others say.

“I took them from Takaba-kun, but I couldn’t keep track of which plate was going where,” says one of the salarymen whose name Akihito still doesn’t know.

“You could have figured it out easily enough,” Sudou snipes.

The men are soon bickering about who had an opportunity to poison Momohara.

“Enough,” Asami finally says, his voice quiet but ringing with an authority that immediately brings silence to the room. “We don’t even know that Momohara-san has been poisoned. She could be ill from something she ate at her residence earlier.”

“But we have to recreate the scenario while it’s fresh in our minds,” Adachi protests. “We already destroyed evidence by washing all the dishes, so we can’t test them. What if Ai-san wasn’t the only one poisoned?”

“Does anyone else feel ill?” Asami asks.

Everyone shakes their heads – except Sudou. “I think I’m feeling a bit queasy,” he says. “I’m going upstairs to lie down.”

The director won’t let him leave the room immediately. After several minutes of consultation on a walkie-talkie (during which everyone has to endure Sudou’s whining), the director finally lets Sudou leave.

“Would the rest of you please consider indulging me by accompanying me to the dining room so we can recreate the meal?” Adachi asks. “Just in case Ai-san really was poisoned, we need to remember while it’s fresh in our minds.”

Sakazaki and the salarymen from the same company roll their eyes but follow the others.

Akihito hurries to walk with Adachi. “You really think Momohara-san was poisoned?” he whispers. “What makes you so sure?”

Adachi shrugs. “I’m not sure. I guess I’ve watched too many late-night crime dramas, but I can’t shake the feeling that something’s up with some of these bachelors. That Liu guy is really strange.”

When they get to the dining room, the contestants sit at the same seats they sat at during dinner.

“Takaba-san, you were standing here serving, correct?” Adachi asks, getting up to indicate the spot. “Would you please stand here?” Adachi goes to the kitchen and grabs a small stack of plates.

Akihito goes and stands in the spot and looks at Adachi.

“Go ahead and pass the plates,” Adachi says.

Akihito starts passing the plates to his left.

“So the people who touched Ai-san’s plate before it reached her were Takaba-san, Takahashi-san, Liu-san, Kurosaki-sensei, Tachibana-san…” Adachi frowns for a moment at the empty seat next to him. “Oh, yes. Sudou-san, myself, and Mitarai-san.”

Akihito makes a mental note of the names of the two salarymen from the same company: Takahashi and Tachibana. He wonders if those are pseudonyms, but he supposes that if he and Mitarai had to use their real names, they probably did, too. However, like Mitarai and Akihito, they were probably able to submit false company names. Akihito resolves to determine the name of their actual company. He wonders once again what Mitarai discovered while Akihito was away on the date. _Maybe we can talk in the onsen later._

The idea doesn’t sit easy with him, though. It would be too easy for someone else to listen in. _There’s got to be a place where we can talk privately._ But the microphones are only turned off in the bathroom and onsen, and with cameras everywhere else, they can’t converse by written word, either. _There’s that study Liu-san has claimed. I wonder if there’s a camera in there._

“Takaba-san?” Adachi asks.

Akihito blinks and realizes he’s missed some of the conversation. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”

“I asked if you kept samples of all the foods you prepared, as you’re supposed to when cooking for a large group.”

Akihito shakes his head. “No. I’ve never heard of that before. I mean, I put the leftovers away, but most things didn’t have any leftovers.”

“I did,” Kirishima says. He pulls out a tray of labeled tubes from the refrigerator.

“If Ai-chan was poisoned at the table, it wouldn’t be in those samples, though, right?” Akihito asks. “I mean, no one else is sick. Except maybe Sudou-san,” he adds. _I bet he’s faking it for attention, though._

“Sudou-san _did_ handle Ai-san’s plate…” Adachi muses. “And he was quick to run away when the topic turned to poisoning.”

“So did you,” Tachibana says. “You’re so obsessed with poisoning, it’s as if you know something and are just trying to throw suspicion off yourself.”

Adachi shrugs. “I’m just trying to recreate the scenario. More than half of us touched Ai-san’s plate. And we haven’t even covered who touched the drinks.”

Half the table groans.

By the time they finish covering who handled Momohara’s drinks, every single person who was at the dinner table is still a suspect. The accusations are quickly flying again. Akihito feels another headache coming on.

“Wouldn’t it be easier to just watch the video footage to see if anyone slipped something into Momohara-san’s food?” he finally asks in exasperation, looking around at the others.

His eyes briefly make contact with Asami’s. The other man hasn’t said anything since he asked whether anyone else felt ill. The man is wearing a nearly perfect business mask of politeness, but Akihito can sense both impatience and power being tightly reined in. Asami’s stare intensifies, and Akihito suddenly feels as if he’s naked. He blushes and looks away.

The director won’t allow the men to see the video footage. The men start to bicker again, but Asami suddenly stands up. “We’ve helped you with your scenario, Adachi-san. If you don’t need anything else…” He waits a nanosecond before leaving the room.

Akihito takes the opportunity to sneak out of the room, too, though not in time to avoid hearing Sakazaki loudly say, “I still think Takaba-kun is the most likely culprit. It’s probably food poisoning, and ten thousand yen says we’ll all be in Ai-chan’s condition before morning.”

Akihito heads out the back door. The night air has cooled off, and he leaps over the railing separating the pool deck from the lawn.

“Takaba-kun!” a female voice calls from behind.

Akihito sighs and whirls around. It’s Nanahara, his production assistant. “Am I not allowed to go ten feet from the house?” he snaps.

“It’s dark,” she says. She takes off his microphone and removes the battery. She holds the new one in her hand, giving Akihito a brief reprieve from being recorded.

“Yeah. So?”

“You’ll look guilty if you slink off by yourself.”

Akihito hadn’t thought about that. “I’m just frustrated. I was trying to be nice, cooking for everyone. They all seemed to enjoy the food.”

“I know. Once they find out it’s not food poisoning, things will die down.”

He looks at her curiously. “How do you know it’s not?”

She shrugs. “No one else is sick. And I ate some of the food. It was well cooked.”

“Thanks,” he mumbles.

“What’s going on with you and Asami-san?” Nanahara abruptly changes the subject.

“What do you mean?” Akihito is suddenly thankful for the darkness that conceals his blush.

“You keep getting flustered around him. This is ‘The Bachelorette,’ not ‘The Bachelor,’ you know.”

“I know that! I’m here to date Momohara-san. Asami is just the kind of person I don’t know how to handle,” Akihito says. _That’s the understatement of the year. He’s worse than Sakazaki._

Nanahara looks at him skeptically. “If you say so… But I’ve heard he swings both ways, and he seems to be interested in you.”

Akihito gulps. “How can I get him to stop?”

“Are you sure you want that?”

“Yeah. Of course I do!” The only reason Akihito’s paid any attention to Asami is because of the rumors he’s heard about his club. He wants proof that the businessman is really a shady underworld smuggler.

Nanahara smiles at him as if she doesn’t believe him. “A man like Asami-san only wants what he can’t have. Just make him think you’ll give him what he wants, and he’ll lose interest soon enough.”

“That seems dangerous,” Akihito says. “I don’t think I can do that.”

Nanahara shrugs as she pops the battery back into his microphone. “Say something so I can make sure the new battery works this time.”

“Hello, world,” Akihito says.

After Nanahara goes back inside, Akihito decides to do some parkour on the patio. As he’s vaulting across chairs and tables, the cameraman from this morning comes outside. “Didn’t you get enough of that on the date?” he grouses.

Akihito shrugs. “I guess not.” He stands on a deck chair to test the strength of the pergola supports. Deciding it’s strong enough, he adds in some lachés and brachial movements. As he’s swinging back towards the house, a light goes on in an upstairs room. As he swings off the pergola and vaults over chairs and tables, his mind races.

_That’s in the closed wing of the house. I thought that was for Momohara-san, but Inagaki-san led her somewhere outside, and they wouldn’t let Sudou leave the drawing room for quite a while, which means they must have still been visible from the house. They don’t want us to know where she’s staying._

_Maybe that wing is for the crew? But there were a lot of trailers, so I don’t think they’d be staying here. Maybe the producer? Or director?_

Akihito’s curiosity, as it usually does, has gotten the better of him. He vaults over the table nearest the wall directly under the window and pretends to notice the trellis for the first time. He tests it carefully before climbing it.

He glances down when he hears the cameraman muttering something, but the videographer gestures for him to continue. The cameraman’s walkie-talkie buzzes. The only phrase Akihito can make out is “wild child.” He inwardly groans, but it’s too late to do anything about that now, and he’s nearly at the window.

He peers in and sees Asami sitting at an ornate desk, reading a report. There’s a large stack of similar reports piled on the desk waiting to be reviewed. Kirishima is standing next to Asami, taking notes on a tablet.

_I should have figured. It’s not like the underworld is going to sit still while he hides away here for a few weeks… Wait a second._ Is _he hiding from something? Or someone?_

Akihito nearly slips off the trellis. He scrabbles to regain his grip, and Asami looks up towards the window. Akihito ducks his head, then climbs down as quickly and quietly as he can, not daring to look again to determine whether Asami actually saw him or not.

_He probably didn’t. It’s hard to see outside at night from a bright room._

As if on cue, the light goes out in the room. Akihito hurries back inside, staying as close to the building as he can without appearing suspicious to the camera.

 

Akihito decides to try searching the bedroom again. If Asami and Kirishima are working in the private wing, he only has to worry about that “P.E. teacher” Suoh. _If he’s Asami’s bodyguard, he can probably relax right now._

Akihito heads to the kitchen and grabs a Ramune from the fridge. Suoh isn’t there. He heads to the drawing room, where he finds Adachi and the two salarymen from the same company.

“Have you seen my button-down shirt?” Akihito asks them, knowing full well he left it outside during his parkour practice.

When they shake their heads, Akihito leaves the room again. He closes the door behind himself and drops down to tie his shoe, hoping to hear some of their conversation, but the heavy wooden door is too thick.

He decides to head upstairs. Maybe Suoh is taking a bath. Maybe he _was_ in the room with Asami and Kirishima, and Akihito just didn’t see him.

Akihito can hear Sakazaki and Sudou talking in the bathroom as he passes it. He’s about to rush past when he hears Sakazaki say “Asami.” Akihito stops just past the open doorway and stoops to tie his shoe again, thankful that his years as a criminal investigator have helped him perfect the art of accidentally-on-purpose untying his shoe at a moment’s notice.

“I haven’t gotten a chance to talk to him yet,” Sudou whines. “That Suoh and Kirishima are like goldfish droppings.”

_That guy wants to do business with Asami, too? Isn’t he a model? Well, the entertainment industry_ is _full of crooks…_

“You are aware of the nature of Asami-san’s business, right?” Sakazaki asks.

Sudou snorts. “Of course I’m aware. You don’t stay in the entertainment business as long as I have without having some _connections_. You of all people should know that.”

_Dang. Is_ anyone _here to date Momohara-san? I feel kind of bad for her. Asami seems to be the reason everyone else is here. Well, except Adachi-san. But why is_ Asami _here, anyway?_

“Do you need to go back to kindergarten?” A voice above him coldly asks.

“What?!” Akihito exclaims as he looks up. Suoh is standing in their bedroom doorway watching him. Akihito hurriedly finishes tying his shoe and stands up.

“Tying shoes shouldn’t be that difficult at your age,” Suoh sneers. “I wish they’d stuck to the Japanese tradition and not allowed shoes in the house.”

“I agree with you there,” Akihito says, “but the floor in here is dirty. I guess it could interfere with filming if the crew had to remove their shoes every time they went in or out.”

Suoh doesn’t reply. Akihito walks to their room, but Suoh doesn’t step aside.

“Excuse me,” Akihito says.

Suoh shifts slightly. Akihito squeezes past him into the room. As he does so, Suoh turns so his back is to the camera and hisses in Akihito’s ear, “If you dare to touch Asami-sama’s things again…” He doesn’t finish the threat, but when Akihito glances up at him in shock, the look on Suoh’s face makes visions of twenty different types of torture flash through Akihito’s mind at once.

Akihito goes to his bag and pulls out his old Game Boy, the only electronic device not confiscated by production. Apparently they didn’t inspect it too closely, because it’s really the internal workings of a Nintendo 3DS (with internet capability) inside a Game Boy Advance body. He slides a Zelda game cartridge into the slot and lies on top of his futon, hoping Suoh will leave him alone.

But apparently Suoh has been stationed to guard the room.

After thirty minutes, Akihito gives up. _Maybe I’ll find Mitarai instead._ Akihito slides the Game Boy into his back pocket and leaves the room. To his relief, Suoh doesn’t follow him.

Mitarai is in the drawing room conversing with Sudou and Sakazaki. Akihito had enough of the pair of them on the group date, so he wanders through the house, hoping to find a place where he can get away from the cameras and start researching the contestants on the internet. It’d look weird for him to take a third bath today, and he can’t find anywhere else inside that is people-free and camera-free. He heads back outside, followed by a new cameraman. He glances at the outside of the house, noticing for the first time a small balcony below the window that overlooks the staircase from the second floor.

_How the heck are you supposed to reach it from inside the house?_ he wonders. The window is quite a bit above the stairs, and anyway, it’s one of those large decorative ones that can’t open. Or at least that’s what he assumed.

Accessing the balcony from the _outside_ is easy – for someone with Akihito’s skills, anyway. He quickly scales the building. As soon as he reaches the balcony, he takes out his Game Boy and places it safely on the balcony floor before climbing up to the balcony and doing a gate vault over the rail onto it.

“Takaba-san,” the cameraman calls up to him.

Akihito looks over the railing at him. “Yeah?”

“How am I supposed to get up there with this?” The cameraman points to the heavy camera on his shoulder.

Akihito shrugs. “Sorry. I’m not doing anything too interesting, anyway. Just going to play my game.” He waves the Game Boy in the air. “I just wanted some privacy,” he explains.

The cameraman sighs and starts communicating over his walkie-talkie. After a few moments, he sits down in a patio chair, camera at the ready for when Akihito decides to come down.

Akihito sits with his knees bent so that the Game Boy rests between his knees and body. He hunches over the screen so that even if there are cameras above him (inside or out) or on the side of the house, they won’t be able to see the screen. Then he goes online and starts creating a document with the names of everyone on the show, making brief notes of what he knows about them.

He scans the list, trying to decide who to research first. He should figure out which company Tachibana and Takahashi are working for, but his eyes settle on the name Liu.

_Why was he meeting with Asami in private? And why is a Chinese martial artist taking time away from his practice to be on a Japanese dating show?_

Akihito has heard the name Liu before. It takes less than a minute of searching to connect Liu Fei Long with the Liu family that heads Baishe, the biggest Hong Kong triad.

Akihito snorts. _Adopted son, huh? And I’m sure he’s an innocent martial artist not involved with the family’s affairs at all._

A large bang startles Akihito. He looks up and sees Fei Long looking out the window at him.

_Shit! Did he see the screen?_

Akihito quickly exits the browser, logs out of the secret account, and turns off the Game Boy. In the time that he’s done so, Fei Long is already gracefully sliding out the window onto the balcony.

_How the heck did he get up there? And how did he open the window?_

Akihito notices that the window swings to the side, not up as he had assumed. He doesn’t have time to wonder any more about Fei Long’s climbing skills as the martial artist leans down and claims his lips.

Akihito tries to push the man away, but he’s stronger than his lithe frame would suggest, and Akihito finds himself powerless until Fei Long himself decides to break the kiss.

“What the fuck?” Akihito exclaims.

At his shout, Akihito hears the cameraman curse below as he picks up the camera and aims it up at the balcony. Liu leans down, his hair curtaining them off from the camera. He switches off Akihito’s microphone as he whispers in Akihito’s ear, “So you’re Asami’s plaything, eh? How interesting that he chose to bring you here…”

“Who would be – that asshole – I’m a guy!” Akihito protests.

Fei Long reaches down and presses a hand against Akihito’s crotch. “You know the touch of a man.”

Akihito bristles. “You’re the same as him, just manhandling people as you please. Who would want –” Akihito breaks off with a gasp as Fei Long squeezes.

“ _You_ ’re the same,” Fei Long says. “Can you tell me what it feels like to be held by him?”

Akihito remembers the feeling of Asami holding him in the onsen and blushes.

Fei Long laughs. “Was it that good?”

“Hey! Your microphones aren’t working there!” the cameraman calls up to them.

Fei Long switches Akihito’s microphone back on as he breathes in his ear, “We’ll talk more later.”

Akihito shivers as Fei Long retreats the way he came. After he’s gone, Akihito takes a moment to compose himself before heading back down the outside of the house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fei Long took over that last part. I guess he got jealous that he's hardly been in the story thus far.
> 
> Sorry, you'll have to wait until next chapter to find out what's wrong with Ai-chan.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Akihito composes his first report for his editor and goes to sleep. But what will Asami do to him during their second night in the house? The next morning, Akihito wakes up feeling restless... which leads to him making an unexpected ally. However, as accusations of poisoning continue to fly, tensions remain high among the bachelors. Who dares to go against Asami?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. These characters have completely taken over the story. This is the last exposition chapter, so things should pick up from here.
> 
> Thanks to everyone who reads, gives kudos, subscribes, and/or leaves comments. It really helps me stay motivated to write.
> 
> Original Characters:  
> Hanako: the paper's spy in the production team  
> Nanahara Aoki: the production assistant in charge of Akihito  
> Inagaki Shingo: the host of the show  
> Adachi Atsushi: one of the salaryman bachelors who went on the ziplining group date and knows a lot about Ai-chan  
> Tachibana Jun and Takahashi Hiro: two salarymen from the same company, on a company mission that has something to do with Asami  
> Kurosaki Kiyoshi: Diet member bachelor, serves on Economy, Trade, and Industry Committee; wants to talk with Asami  
> Steve: friendly cameraman who goes running with Akihito
> 
> Japanese terms:  
> Asami-sa-n: I use this to denote a hesitation as Kirishima and Suoh start to say "Asami-sama" but change it to the more appropriate (if they're supposedly strangers on equal standing) "Asami-san"

After his encounter with Fei Long, Akihito decides it’s time to call it a night. First things first, though: he turns to the cameraman before they head inside and asks, “Is Momohara-san doing any better?”

The cameraman frowns. “I’m not supposed to tell you that.” But he subtly nods his head as he’s saying it.

Akihito sighs. “I figured. Thanks anyway.” He adds a nod, hoping the cameraman will understand the thanks is genuine without revealing that he answered Akihito against the rules.

When they reach the door, the cameraman gestures for Akihito to go first, so Akihito holds the door open for a moment so the cameraman can catch it with his foot.

Akihito heads upstairs to his bedroom. Suoh is still guarding the room, but Akihito ignores him as he gets ready for bed. He’s thankful he doesn’t run into anyone else in the bathroom. When he returns to the room, Suoh is still stoically sitting on his futon in meditation pose.

Akihito ignores him and settles on his futon with his Game Boy. He decides to risk going online, taking the precaution of allowing the Zelda music to play in the background while he works. He’s barely finished logging in when Suoh grumbles, “Can’t you use headphones?”

Akihito fishes a pair out of his bag, turning the volume to low. He needs to stay alert in case anyone wants to look at his screen – but if he looks _too_ alert, he’ll raise Suoh’s suspicions.

Within thirty minutes, he has a document prepared for the editor with notes about each suspect – er, bachelor:

  * Asami Ryuichi – CEO of Sion Corporation, which runs a number of high-end clubs in Shinjuku that serve as fronts for various smuggling and underworld activities; pervert; was seen in closed wing reading through stack of reports with Kirishima (see photo); had secret meeting with Liu Fei Long
  * Suoh Kazumi – allegedly a P.E. teacher; in reality Sion Corp.’s chief of security, acting as Asami’s personal bodyguard – and possibly Momohara-san’s (made sure she was safe during obstacle course, asked me to help protect her at the other end of the ziplines)
  * Kirishima Kei – Asami’s first assistant, posing as salaryman; is allowed a tablet for “work” (and was seen with Asami working in closed wing)
  * Liu Fei Long – “martial artist” (no record of entries in public competitions, but does have high-level black belts in at least 3 different disciplines); adoptive son of Baishe triad chairman Liu; claimed only room with a door as his private bedroom, where he’s had at least one secret meeting with Asami and his employees; pervert
  * Takahashi Hiro – sent by boss (Takanaga Corporation) on a “mission” that has something to do with Asami, along with Tachibana – so far appears unsuccessful
  * Tachibana Jun – see above under “Takahashi”
  * Sudou Shuu – aging model, just got dropped as lead model by major fashion house, wants to ingratiate himself with Asami, was warned about Asami’s underworld activity by Sakazaki but said he’s already got “connections” (see recording); probably a pervert
  * Sakazaki ? – top host in Tokyo, knows about Asami’s underworld dealings (see above under “Sudou”); pervert
  * Kurosaki Kiyoshi – Diet member, serves on Economy, Trade, and Industry Committee; desperate to have meeting with Asami for some unknown reason
  * Adachi Atsushi – knows a lot about Momohara-san; seemed fixated on idea that she was poisoned after she threw up tonight after dinner; made us reenact dinner only to come to conclusion that everyone is a suspect (director wouldn’t let us watch footage to see if we could see someone messing with Momohara-san’s food)
  * Mitarai – might have information about Takahashi and Tachibana’s Takanaga Corporation assignment; I told him what I knew before I left for the group date; he stayed behind with T&T



Akihito sends the report to the editor along with the pictures and recordings he’s managed to take surreptitiously. Within five minutes, he gets a short reply back: _What about Momohara-san and Inagaki-san?_

Akihito adds the following to his report and sends it back:

  * Momohara Ai – very kind; was on track team in middle school and still likes to run; feels show will help her get to know people in a safe environment (see recording); got sick immediately after dinner
  * Inagaki Shingo - host of the show; on friendly terms with Momohara-san



Akihito doesn’t hear anything back from the editor, so he logs out and starts playing the game in earnest. After another thirty minutes, he decides to slide under the covers and try to sleep, though he’s not sure he wants to close his eyes around Asami (who still hasn’t returned to the room for the night, but surely will at some point).

Akihito contemplates asking for a room transfer, but if he did, that means he wouldn’t be able to keep as close an eye on Asami. There’s no way he’s giving up this scoop; that would mean conceding defeat to a little bit (or rather a lot) of sexual harassment.

_What was that advice Nanahara-san gave me again? “Make him think you’ll give him what he wants, and he’ll lose interest.” That seems way too dangerous!_

 

Akihito falls into a fitful sleep while worrying about his predicament with Asami. His dreams turn pleasant, but eventually his body sends such strong sensations to his brain that he can’t help but wake up. At first he can’t remember where he is, and the dark room provides no clue. He feels warm and comfortable… except a certain part of him which is on the brink of going out of control.

_Crap. Was I having a wet dream?_

Akihito can’t remember what he was dreaming about; he’s never been able to remember the contents of his wet dreams. As he’s lying there wondering, he feels a delightful friction bringing him even closer to the brink.

_Wait a second. I’m not doing that._

Akihito finally registers the warm, firm body pressed against his back. And what’s that poking at his backside?

“Relax,” a voice breathes in his ear.

Akihito jumps – and promptly elbows Asami in the stomach as Akihito rolls away from him. Unfortunately, Akihito rolls a little too fast and tangles himself up in his blanket.

While he’s still trying to untangle himself, Asami looms over him, one hand on either side of him, pinning him in place because of the blanket.

“What do you want, bastard?” Akihito snarls.

“Quiet down. Or do you want to wake the others?” Asami asks in a low voice.

Akihito scowls at him. “Leave me alone.”

“You’re the one who crawled into my bed. You’re the one who was moaning my name in his sleep. I was merely giving you what you asked for.”

“I did not,” Akihito protests. _I couldn’t have._

Asami picks up Akihito’s recording pen and plays back the most recent recording.

“Asami… Please… mmnnn…”

Akihito blushes but whispers fiercely, “Obviously I was having a nightmare.”

“Do your nightmares usually make you hard?” Asami smirks. “You must be a real M.”

“I am not! Stop twisting my words!” Akihito hisses. “Obviously I only reacted because you were touching me and my body didn’t know what was going on.”

“Obviously your body knew _exactly_ what was going on,” Asami says, rubbing one knee against Akihito’s crotch. “You’re still rock-hard. Would you like me to continue helping you?”

“No thanks,” Akihito snipes.

Asami presses his knee down farther. Akihito gasps. Asami eases the pressure and reapplies it repeatedly, and soon Akihito is taken over the brink. He tries not to let it show, but Asami can tell by the hitch of his breath.

He smirks down at Akihito before rolling over onto his own futon again.

Akihito disentangles from his blanket.

_Shit. Now I’ve got to clean my underwear._

He pulls on a pair of jeans over the soiled boxer-briefs, stuffing a fresh pair down the side so it won’t be obvious to the cameras. He tiptoes his way to the doorway, stopping when he unexpectedly hits something soft. He feels around tentatively with his hands and realizes that someone hung up a blanket in the doorway.

Akihito tries to ease the blanket aside, but the whole thing comes crashing down. He decides to leave it until after he returns from the bathroom.

 

Akihito is nearly finished washing his boxers in the sink when Asami enters the bathroom. Akihito immediately backs up against the sink, not wishing to have his back to Asami for even a moment.

Asami stalks towards him like a cat after prey. “What are you thinking?” he practically purrs.

“I’m not thinking anything,” Akihito says defensively.

“Are you thinking I just might take you?” Asami asks.

“Of course not!” Akihito protests. “I’m going back to the room.”

He heads for the door, but he’s only taken a single step when Asami tugs on his wrist and pulls him back, claiming his lips.

The kiss leaves Akihito breathless, but he manages to gasp, “Bastard! I’m a guy.” He shoves away from Asami and heads back to the room.

_That was close. I don’t want to soil another pair of underwear._

It takes a while for Akihito to calm down enough to feel sleepy again. Asami doesn’t return to the room.

 

The next morning, Akihito feels that restless sensation that led to his juvenile record in high school and that he’s since been able to channel more constructively into his high-stakes criminal journalism career. “Adrenaline junkie,” his friends have accused him of being more than once, and they’re not wrong. Cooped up in a house with a bunch of sexual harassers, Akihito senses that if he doesn’t find a release for his pent-up energy soon, he’s going to do something reckless. Again.

Only this time, it will be aired on national television.

Akihito quickly dresses. He takes his dirty laundry (the soiled underwear from last night well buried in the pile) to the washing machine and starts it. Then he heads outside for a run. The second cameraman from last night is waiting by the door, dressed in running clothes and holding a GoPro.

“I heard you like to go running,” the cameraman explains. “So do I, so I offered to accompany you on your morning runs.”

“Awesome.” Akihito grins at him. Akihito might actually be able to _go_ somewhere this time.

“For me as well. This way, I don’t have to use my breaks to squeeze in a run,” the cameraman says.

“What’s your name?” Akihito asks as they fall into an easy pace together to warm up.

“Steve.”

Akihito gawks at him. “Are you half-Japanese?”

Steve is very tall (maybe even taller than Asami), but otherwise, he looks pretty Japanese.

“No. A returnee. I was born in America, and my mom chose the name of her favorite movie star. My dad was away on a business trip at the time.”

“Did you work in Hollywood?”

Steve laughs. “I returned when I was three, before I even went to school. I’ve never been to Hollywood.”

“School must have been hard with that name.”

Steve shrugs. “In some ways, but once the other kids realized I was just like them, it was fine. Sometimes the teachers would go a bit easy on me, so that was nice.”

Akihito laughs. “I would have milked that as long as I could.”

Steve chuckles. “I did, but they always figured it out sooner than later.”

“I look like I’m half-Japanese, but I never got a pass from the teachers after they met both my parents… which always happened fairly early in the school year,” Akihito says.

“Are you half?” Steve asks.

Akihito shrugs. “Both my parents are. They both look pure Japanese and grew up here, but somehow I came out looking more half than either of them.”

As the pair continue to chat, they slowly increase the pace but settle into a rhythm that still allows for conversation. They follow the fence at the back of the property, and then Steve leads them through a gate to a small forest. There’s a nice packed-dirt trail that winds through the woods, and Akihito takes the opportunity to practice some parkour among the trees.

“Can you teach me some of those moves?” Steve asks shyly.

Akihito shows the cameraman a few vaults, and Steve is a quick study.

“My career goal is action news,” Steve confesses. “I know it’s difficult to capture a rapidly evolving story on film, so I’m going to need a lot of practice, but I figure my athleticism might provide an edge as I’m learning.”

Akihito’s heart leaps to meet a similar-minded colleague. But he bites his tongue. After a second, though, he can’t help but offer some encouragement. “Just go chasing the stories, even if you’re not working for a TV channel yet. If you capture great footage, they’ll buy it from you freelance.”

“Really?” Steve asks.

Akihito shrugs. “That’s what my friends tell me. I’ve only managed to sell a picture or two, but it’s good practice, at any rate, and my skills are continuing to improve. At least I’d like to think so...” He scratches his head, embarrassed that his comment might have been construed as bragging.

He’s thankful that his editor has insisted his criminal photos credit an alias instead of his real name. “It’s for your protection,” the editor explained. “We can’t afford to give you any security.” At the time, Akihito was worried that he’d have difficulty making a name for himself if most of his photos were credited to someone else, but it has enabled him to go undercover more easily (such as on this very assignment), and when he needs to open doors, he merely needs to mention his alias as an associate.

“Does it really work the same in TV, though?” Steve asks dubiously. “It’s hard to get an appointment.”

Akihito shrugs. “If you’ve got exclusive footage of breaking news, I guarantee you’ll get an appointment. I have some contacts in the industry that might help… depending on how ready you are to take that step.”

“Thanks,” Steve says. “We’ll see how I do recording your parkour action.” He grins as he holds up the GoPro again and gestures for Akihito to resume his exercise.

 

After half an hour, Steve glances at his watch. “We’d better head back,” he warns.

He leads the way along the path in the opposite direction from which they came.

“This will take us back to the property, too, and we’re already more than halfway,” he explains.

The trail emerges at the edge of a hill-and-pond style garden.

“Wow,” Akihito breathes, taking in the sunlight playing off the water of several small ponds and the way the morning mist settles between the hills, making them appear as if they’re floating in the clouds.

“I know. I keep suggesting we use this garden for the show, but no one else wants to drag the needed equipment way out here. They said maybe for a longer shoot, but the gardens nearer the house are picturesque enough.”

Akihito snorts. “I wish I had a camera,” he says wistfully.

“I don’t know why they locked yours up. They could always confiscate the film after you’re done shooting,” Steve says.

“But I’d want to develop it myself, too,” Akihito says.

Steve nods. “I get that. Here.” He hands the GoPro to Akihito.

“I don’t know how to do video,” Akihito confesses.

“Just set up your shot as you would a film camera, and hold it for a while. Just pan really slowly, and linger where you would take a picture.”

Akihito shrugs and looks at the screen.

“Slower,” Steve warns. “I can slow it down later, but it’ll be in slow motion then.”

Akihito nods. After a moment, he asks, “How do I zoom?”

“You can’t. Well, with a different lens you could, but I wanted it lightweight for running.”

Akihito nods. He focuses on the distantmost hill then pulls back from the screen to look with his eyes. “Isn’t that Momohara-san?”

“Where?” Steve asks sharply, his eyes following Akihito’s. “Takaba-san, I think we’d better –”

But Akihito is already racing across the garden, calling, “Momohara-san! How are you?”

Steve sighs but races after Akihito, who’s still clutching his GoPro. “Takaba-san! I need the camera back!” he calls desperately.

Akihito pauses for a moment to pass the camera back to Steve then jogs up to Momohara-san. “Are you feeling better today?” he asks breathlessly.

“Good morning, Takaba-san. And Steve-san.” Momohara smiles, nodding at the cameraman as he slowly approaches them, camera at the ready.

Steve shakes his head slightly, and Momohara pouts.

“Right. I’m supposed to pretend you’re not there. You can edit it out,” she teases, sticking her tongue out at Steve.

Akihito looks back and forth between the two of them. Obviously they know each other, but if he’s suddenly supposed to pretend that Steve’s not there, he’ll have to ask later – maybe on another run. “How are you?” he finally asks Momohara.

“I’m alright now. Still feeling a bit shaky and weak, but I’ll be fine.”

“That’s good,” Akihito says.

“I’m not sure I’m up for the date today,” she confesses, “but I don’t want to mess up the schedule.”

“I’m sure everyone would understand. You were really sick. Besides, isn’t it better to take a day to really recover rather than push yourself and feel bad for days?”

Momohara shrugs. “‘The show must go on,’ though, right? I’m used to it.”

“So what are you doing out here?” Akihito asks.

“Just taking a short walk. This garden is so peaceful.”

“It is,” Akihito agrees.

They chat for a few more minutes before Steve’s walkie-talkie buzzes and he indicates that it’s time for them to return to the house.

“Should I walk you back to… wherever you’re staying?” Akihito offers to Momohara.

“No, thank you. I’ll be fine.” Momohara sits on a garden bench.

She’s still sitting there when Akihito turns back to look from the far edge of the garden. When she sees him turn, she waves, and he waves back.

“Man, I’m awkward,” he mutters to himself.

 

When he gets back to the house, Akihito hangs his clothes out to dry and decides to cook breakfast before taking a shower because the run made him ravenous. As he’s gathering ingredients, a few of the other bachelors trickle in. “Want some?” he asks.

“I really don’t want food poisoning again,” Sudou snipes.

Akihito scowls, biting back a retort. He doesn’t know for a fact whether Sudou actually got sick last night, but he certainly sounded fine by the time he was taking a bath with Sakazaki, and he’s not acting the least bit sick today, unlike Momohara.

“Suit yourself,” Akihito says.

The rest follow Sudou’s lead, opting for cereal instead of a cooked breakfast. Akihito is just cracking the eggs into a pan when Asami, Kirishima, and Suoh enter the kitchen. Akihito willfully ignores them, but Asami comes up behind him and asks in his ear, “Are you cooking for everyone again, or just for yourself today?”

Akihito jumps, and his hand brushes against the hot pan. He curses loudly and rushes to the sink to run it under cold water.

“Are you alright?” Asami asks, his voice sounding only politely concerned.

“I’m fine,” Akihito snaps. “And aren’t you afraid I’ll give you food poisoning?”

Asami’s eyebrows shoot up. “Should I be? So far your cooking has been delicious.”

Akihito’s eyes flash. “You don’t need to be so condescending. I’m sure it’s nothing compared to the five-star food at Club Sion, but home-cooking is delicious in its own right.”

“I never said it wasn’t,” Asami says. “I prefer traditional Japanese food myself.”

Akihito searches Asami’s face, but there’s no trace of his usual smugness.

“I can make us breakfast, Asami-sa-n,” Kirishima says, trying to defuse the situation.

Akihito sighs as he turns back to the stove and adds more eggs to the pan. “It’s fine. It’s just as easy to cook for four as it is for one. You guys are eating too?” He raises his eyebrows at Kirishima and Suoh, who nod.

Once again, Kirishima steps in to help with the cooking, putting on more toast as the first batch finishes and adding some more of the leftover vegetables from last night to the pan where they’re reheating.

“I can make miso soup and broiled fish tomorrow,” Akihito mumbles, half to himself.

“That would be delicious,” Asami says.

Akihito blushes. _Why am I cooking for this bastard, anyway? Much less changing my routine to cook what he likes?_

The other bachelors look with envy when the five of them bring their steaming plates to the table. Akihito glares at them, daring them to ask for even a taste, but no one does.

Akihito sits next to Kurosaki, hoping that he’ll be able to avoid sitting next to Asami, but Kurosaki says, “I’m sorry, Takaba-kun. I was saving that seat for Asami-san.”

“Oh.” Akihito feels like the kid left out on the class trip during room assignments.

He starts to get up, but Asami puts his hand on Akihito’s shoulder. “Stay,” he commands.

Asami sits on the other side of Akihito. Kurosaki leans forward to try to talk around Akihito, but Asami resolutely ignores him.

Asami takes a sip of coffee. “This is good,” he says. “Thanks for the meal.”

“No problem.” Akihito can feel the blush creeping over his face again. He gets up, intent on changing to the only empty seat diagonally across the table, but he’s barely gotten out of his chair when Adachi enters the room and flops down on it. Akihito sighs and eases back into his chair.

“Ah, man, did I miss Takaba-san’s cooking? I guess that’s what I get for dawdling,” Adachi grumbles. Sakazaki wordlessly passes him the cereal box. Adachi shakes it, frowning when it sounds like there’s only a little left.

“Aren’t you afraid of getting food poisoning?” Tachibana asks Adachi.

“No. Why would I be?”

“You were the first one to accuse me of poisoning Momohara-san last night,” Akihito points out.

“Sorry about that. You were a logical suspect until we realized no one else got sick.”

“Except me,” Sudou whines.

Adachi gazes at him. “Did you really? Or were you just looking for an excuse to leave the room? Being the only other person to get sick would certainly divert suspicion away from you.”

Akihito nearly spits out the giant bite of egg he’s just taken. He coughs, trying to cover up his laugh at the apoplectic look on Sudou’s face.

_Adachi’s a bit strange, but maybe he’s alright. At least he can see through that snake Sudou._

Sudou hasn’t done much to Akihito besides be rude, but somehow Akihito feels he has to watch his back around the model. Maybe it’s the way the man’s personality does a complete one-eighty depending on who’s in the room and whether the cameras are focused on him.

_I hope they manage to capture his real personality._

“I wonder how Ai-chan is doing today,” Sudou wonders. “My stomach is still a little iffy. I hope she’s alright; she got so much sicker than I did.”

“She’s –” Akihito cuts himself off mid-sentence. Somehow, he doesn’t think it’s a good idea to tell the others he ran into Momohara this morning. The others look at him expectantly. “I hope she’s fine, too,” he finishes lamely.

“I’m sure Inagaki-san will tell us soon enough,” Asami says, his focus still on his food.

 

After breakfast, Akihito heads to the bathroom to take a shower. Thankfully, the room is empty, and he finishes quickly, dressing in one of the changing rooms.

He heads to the bedroom to grab his futon so he can air it out. _Should I air out the others’ too?_ When he gets there, he sees that someone else has already moved the other three futons. Asami’s suitcase is sitting unzipped, with a gap of several inches thanks to the height of the contents.

 _They could have given us some storage space to unpack…_ Akihito grouses to himself as he eyes Asami’s suitcase. _I really shouldn’t…  It’s probably a trap._

But Akihito can’t resist. Like a moth drawn to a flame, he moves towards the suitcase. Before he’s halfway across the room, someone barks from the door, “What are you doing, brat?!”

Akihito looks back over his shoulder as he says, “I was just going to air out my futon.” He casually redirects his course so that he’s heading in the right direction (not too hard since his futon is folded neatly right next to Asami’s suitcase).

“You went through Asami-sama’s suitcase!” Suoh accuses. He pushes past Akihito and flips the lid of the suitcase up. Inside, all of Asami’s clothes are tangled. It’s obvious the case has been ransacked.

“I didn’t do it!” Akihito says hotly. “I just got out of the shower. It was like that when I got here, I swear.”

“Yeah, right,” Suoh snipes, grabbing Akihito roughly by the collar.

“If you don’t believe me, just ask to see the footage from the camera,” Akihito says, gesturing to the camera in the chandelier. “Then you’ll find out who really did it.”

At the mention of the camera, Suoh releases Akihito and awkwardly pats his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Takaba-kun. I overreacted. I don’t like thieves.”

“I’m not a thief,” Akihito says, scowling, “but maybe Asami should check his suitcase, make sure nothing’s missing.”

Suoh checks his watch, fiddling with a dial, but otherwise doesn’t move.

After a moment, Akihito says, “Do you know where Asami is? Did he already leave for his date?”

Suoh shrugs. “I’m not sure that’s going to happen today. Anyway, I can’t leave the room. I have to guard Asami-sa-n’s bag.”

Akihito stares at him. “Wait, you think I’ll go through it if you leave? I won’t!” He protests hotly, even though he’d been about to do just that before Suoh arrived. _And I didn’t even remember the camera. I’ve got to be more careful._

“What if you interrupted the person?” Suoh says darkly.

Akihito hadn’t thought of that. He can’t remember seeing anyone in the hallway when he left the bathroom, but he didn’t look into any of the other bedrooms.  “I didn’t see anyone,” he says. _Then again, I wasn’t really paying attention._

His thoughts are interrupted by Asami’s entrance into the room, followed closely by Kirishima.

Akihito tries to remain unobtrusive as he takes his time arranging things in his suitcase, making sure to turn on his recorder pen.  He palms his minicam as Asami slowly removes the contents from his suitcase one by one, setting them in separate piles.

“Is anything missing, Asami-sa-n?” Kirishima asks, looking as stoic as ever.

Asami sets his mouth in a grim line, looking pointedly at Akihito.

“Weren’t you going to air out your futon?” Suoh asks.

“Yeah,” Akihito says, “but I want to know if we have a thief in the house first.”

“This doesn’t concern you,” Asami says.

“I think it does,” Akihito says. “I’m staying in this room, too. What if they go through my things next?”

“What do you have that’s worth stealing?” Kirishima asks. His retort is more venomous because unlike if it came from Sudou or Kurosaki, there’s no malice behind the words. Instead, Kirishima sounds mildly curious, which somehow makes it even more insulting.

“Nothing,” Akihito mutters. He snatches up his futon and stalks out of the room in a huff.

 _Hopefully that was enough of an act that they won’t search for the recorder, especially since they’re focused on what’s missing from Asami’s luggage. I wonder what would make the usually unflappable leader of the Tokyo underworld look so worried._ _And who would dare to cross him? Asami’s_ my _target._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The cast of characters is set; Steve was the last one I needed to introduce. The action will pick up from here (and the romance... Akihito just needs to impress Asami first, and he's been wasting time bumbling around instead).
> 
> My plan is to write a chapter for "Color My World" next, though, since its last update was a while ago. Then it'll be either this or "Exhibition," followed by the other.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who went through Asami's luggage and what did they steal from him? And what really made Ai-chan sick last night?
> 
> While trying to figure out these mysteries, Akihito has to sneak into the closed wing to retrieve something Asami steals from him. Will he manage to recover his stolen item without getting caught?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. So much is going on in this story, this chapter got a little long trying to fit it all in. You'll finally get some answers (and closer to a few others), though! I really like writing this kind of story once all the balls are in the air. Let me know if I drop any for too long, especially since I'm working on a couple of other stories at the same time (next up: Exhibition).
> 
> Thanks to everyone who reads, gives kudos, subscribes, and/or leaves comments. It really helps me stay motivated to write.
> 
> You'll notice some of the dialogue and actions in this chapter are closely inspired by the manga (specifically chapter 1), so I want to make sure I give extra credit to Yamane Ayano-sensei.
> 
> Original Characters:  
> Hanako: the paper's spy in the production team  
> Nanahara Aoki: the production assistant in charge of Akihito  
> Inagaki Shingo: the host of the show  
> Adachi Atsushi: one of the salaryman bachelors who went on the ziplining group date and knows a lot about Ai-chan  
> Tachibana Jun and Takahashi Hiro: two salarymen from the same company, on a company mission that has something to do with Asami  
> Kurosaki Kiyoshi: Diet member bachelor, serves on Economy, Trade, and Industry Committee; wants to talk with Asami  
> Steve: friendly cameraman who goes running with Akihito
> 
> Taishō Period: 1912-1926

Akihito peers into the other bedrooms as he makes his way to the stairs, ignoring Suoh’s impatient huffing behind him. No one is in the bedroom next door to theirs, but Tachibana and Takahashi are in the one across the hall. They stop talking when Akihito glances in.

“Oh, sorry. I was just going to air out my futon and wondered whether anyone else wanted theirs aired out,” Akihito says.

“Thanks. That’s a good idea. I’ll take mine out myself, though, thanks,” Tachibana says.

“Alright.” Akihito nods at them and runs down the stairs.

Mitarai is sitting at the dining room table doing a crossword puzzle. Sudou and Sakazaki are sitting at the other end, still nursing cups of coffee. _But did any of them move after breakfast?_

“Hey, have you guys seen Tachibana-san? I told him I was airing out my futon, and he asked if I could air his out, too, but I don’t know which one is his.”

“Didn’t you pass him on the stairs?” Mitarai asks, not even looking up from his puzzle. “He just went up with Takahara-san a second ago.”

“You mean Takahashi-san?” Akihito asks.

“Yeah. Him.”

“If you’re airing out futons, you can air mine out, too,” Sudou says.

“Sure, no problem,” Akihito says, gritting his teeth. “Can I just take all the ones from your room then?”

Sakazaki nods.

“Who else is in there again? Kurosaki-sensei? Do you know where he is? I don’t want to just move his without asking.”

“I’m sure it’s fine,” Sudou says. “I’m sure he’s used to people airing his dirty laundry.” Sudou chuckles.

“What do you mean?” Akihito asks, trying not to let his nerves show. _Does he know I’m an undercover reporter, too? But how?_

“I guess you don’t read the newspaper much, do you? Figures,” Sudou sneers.

Akihito breathes a little easier, but he presses on, “So no one knows where he went after breakfast?”

The others shrug. Sakazaki pulls out a flask and pours a little into his coffee.

“Give me some more of that,” Sudou whispers, reaching for the flask.

Akihito notices they’re positioned to avoid the camera just behind them in the light fixture. _Too bad they didn’t notice the one on the bookshelf right in front of them._

He runs through his mental list of potential suspects one more time. _So it probably wasn’t Sudou, Sakazaki, Tachibana, or Takahashi. Including myself, that’s nearly half the bachelors eliminated. Plus Asami, Kirishima, and Suoh, of course. I suppose it might have been Mitarai, but if it was, I guess he beat me to the scoop. That leaves Kurosaki, Adachi, and Liu, though._

Akihito heads into the drawing room, where Kurosaki is sitting, immersed in what looks to be a long, dense government report.

“Hi, Kurosaki-sensei. I’m airing out futons and wanted to make sure it was okay for me to air out yours, too.”

Kurosaki waves a hand absentmindedly but doesn’t reply.

“Uh, sensei?”

After another moment, Akihito gives up. He takes his futon outside. _Liu could be in his room. Maybe he’s the one who ransacked Asami’s luggage. But where’s Adachi-san?_

The man in question appears behind him, out of breath and covered in sweat. “Ah, Takaba-san. Good idea. I should do the same thing.”

“You been running somewhere?” Akihito asks.

“I was on the rowing machine,” Adachi says. “Have you tried it yet? That thing is amazing! It’s got a computer where you can track all kinds of things. I was able to row 10k a minute faster than I did yesterday.”

Akihito’s eyebrows shoot up. “Sounds fun,” he says.

“Well, I wouldn’t call it _fun_ … but it’s a great workout. Got to stay in shape if we’re going to be all cooped up, right?” Adachi asks. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to cool off.”

He tosses aside his shirt, shoes, and socks and dives into the pool.

“Do you want me to air out your futon, too?” Akihito calls when Adachi resurfaces.

“If it’s not too much trouble,” Adachi calls back. “Thanks!”

Akihito hangs his futon on the railing next to the other three and heads back inside, taking a detour to the exercise room to check out the rowing machine. Sure enough, there’s a saved workout from Adachi. _So it was Mitarai, Kurosaki, or Liu_ , he concludes.

He heads upstairs, ignoring Suoh’s glowering face as he heads into the other rooms and gathers the futons he promised to attend to. After taking care of them, he decides he’s given Asami and his cronies enough time. Suoh continues to stand in the doorway, arms folded across his chest.

“Um, excuse me,” Akihito says. “I’d like to get something from my bag.”

Suoh doesn’t move.

Akihito glares up at him. “You can’t just block the door. This is my room, too.”

“Let him in,” Asami says.

When Akihito enters, he sees that there are now two clothes racks, on which Asami’s, Suoh’s, and Kirishima’s clothes are hanging.

Akihito heads to his bag and pulls out his Game Boy. He searches for his recording pen, but it’s not there.

“Looking for something?” Asami asks.

Akihito can hear the smirk in his voice. He looks at Asami suspiciously. Asami stares back, the amusement growing on his face.

Finally, Akihito breaks eye contact, glancing down. He does a double-take as he sees his pen in Asami’s breast pocket.

“Excuse me, but I think you might have borrowed my pen,” Akihito says.

“Oh, did I?” I’m so sorry. Here you go.” Asami removes an expensive fountain pen from his pocket and holds it out to Akihito.

“That’s not mine,” Akihito says.

“I’m sorry. Why don’t we trade?” Asami asks.

“That one’s way nicer than my pen,” Akihito says. “I couldn’t possibly…”

“I insist,” Asami says. “Since it was my fault, please accept it as an apology.”

“That’s really not necessary…”

“Please.” Asami bows his head slightly and offers the pen with both hands, but his eyes are dark with amusement.

Akihito fumes internally. With his back to the camera, Asami appears the perfect gentleman. Akihito has no choice but to accept. “It’s really too much, but thank you.” Akihito accepts the pen with both hands, bowing a bit more deeply than the occasion calls for, subtly mocking Asami in return, but looking innocent for the cameras.

Akihito fishes out his notebook from his bag and sticks it in his back pocket along with Asami’s pen. _I should really write or draw something in it, in case people wonder why I’m carrying it around._

“Did you figure out what was stolen?” Akihito asks.

Asami shrugs. “I’m sure I just misplaced it. I’m not going to worry about it just yet.” His face has settled into an unreadable mask.

_Too late. You let me see how worried you were earlier. I’m not falling for that._

“Well, I hope you find it, whatever it is.” Akihito starts sretching. He’s got to see what Asami does with his recorder, but he knows Suoh and Kirishima will try to play interference if they figure out what he’s doing.

“You might want to be careful where you put that pen,” Asami says after a moment.

“Why?” Akihito pulls the pen out of his pocket. His fingers are covered in ink. “Shit!”

He runs to the bathroom and rinses off his hand. Surprisingly, the ink mostly comes off without any soap.

Kirishima enters the bathroom behind him. “The ink is water-soluble. If you blot as much as you can off with a paper towel and then run it under cold water, it may not stain. Any residual stain can be treated with a regular laundry stain remover.”

“Thanks,” Akihito says, a little surprised by the stoic man’s sudden kindness. Kirishima leaves the room without another word.

Akihito takes his jeans off and does as Kirishima suggests. He’s standing in his boxer-briefs when Asami enters the room. Akihito holds the wet jeans up between him and Asami. “I’m a little too busy to deal with your harassment right now,” he snipes.

“I’m just using the restroom,” Asami says. He enters one of the toilets, and Akihito gets back to work.

As the stain slowly gets lighter, he can feel his shoulders relaxing.

_Man, I could really use a massage. This place is way too stressful._

He closes his eyes when a pair of hands oblige him, kneading the stiffness out of his shoulders. But after a second, his eyes fly open.

“Did you wash your hands?” he asks as his eyes lock with Asami’s in the mirror.

Asami chuckles. “Of course. You really don’t pay attention to what’s going on around you, do you?”

“Of course I do,” Akihito snaps, trying to shrug away Asami’s hands.

“Just relax. It’s just a massa- What is this?” Asami suddenly asks, pointing to a spot on Akihito’s neck.

“What’s what?” Akihito asks.

“This red mark,” Asami says.

“I don’t know. A bug bite?” Akihito guesses.

“Must have been a big bug.” Asami traces the mark with a finger.

“I think it was a _dragonfly_.” Akihito accuses.

Asami’s eyes darken. “Fei Long dared to touch what is mine?”

“What’s yours? And who said anything about Liu?” Akihito asks, confused. But as he remembers what happened last night on the balcony with Liu, he can’t help blushing a little.

“‘Fei Long’ means ‘flying dragon’ in Chinese,” Asami explains, his frown deepening as he observes Akihito’s face carefully.

“I think it was the ‘first dragon,’” Akihito counters.

“‘Noble best,’ Asami whispers as he nibbles on Akihito’s ear, correcting Akihito’s misinterpretation of Asami’s own name.

Akihito snorts. “In your dreams,” he says. “Stop. That tickles.” He turns his head so Asami will stop tickling his ear, but Asami moves down to his neck.

“I’ll take care of this for you,” he says, biting the red mark.

“Ow. Quit it.” Akihito pushes at Asami, but it just makes the man bite down harder. “Seriously, stop it! I’m going in the pool later. Don’t leave a mark.”

“You already had a mark,” Asami retorts.

“Now I look like I was attacked by a vampire. Sheesh.” Akihito rubs his neck. _I’ll have to put a bandage on that. It would be visible even if I wore a collared shirt – not that I have too many of those._

He slaps a band-aid on his neck then grabs his razor so he can have a plausible excuse – though he doubts anyone would even notice that he’s done so, and he doesn’t really have any hair growing on his neck.

Asami steps to the mirror next to him, pulling a couple of strands loose from his hair so they casually fall across his face. Akihito snickers; he’d assumed that Asami’s signature elegant-yet-slightly-imperfect hairstyle was the result of moving around throughout the day. Somehow, the image of the underworld leader fussing in the mirror like a schoolgirl is amusing.

Asami looks over at Akihito. “What’s so funny, brat? Are you pretending you borrowed your daddy’s razor?”

Akihito glares at Asami. Sure, his beard hair is light and hardly noticeable even after a couple days’ growth, but he _does_ have a beard.

Asami turns to leave the bathroom, and Akihito follows him out, bringing the wet jeans with him. Asami doesn’t say anything as Akihito follows him down the stairs, but Akihito stops abruptly when Asami presses his thumb to a scanner connected to the door leading to the closed wing.

Asami turns, amusement dancing in his eyes as he asks, “Was there something you wanted, Takaba?”

“Uh, no. I’m just going to finish washing these,” Akihito says, holding up the jeans.

 

Akihito’s just started the washing machine when the foghorn noise comes from the intercom system. He heads towards the drawing room. As he passes the closed wing door, Asami opens it. Akihito immediately looks at Asami’s pocket. His recorder is gone. _Shit! That bastard! I’ll just have to get it back. At least I know where it is._

The devilish smirk is creeping over Asami’s face again, but Akihito decides to ignore him this time. He whirls and heads into the drawing room, where Shingo and Momohara are waiting.

The other bachelors are clamoring around Momohara, asking how she’s feeling. Akihito winks at her but keeps his distance, not wanting to contribute to the crowd.

“Gentlemen, if you would please take a seat, all your questions will be answered,” Shingo says. Once everyone is seated, Shingo continues, “First, I’m sure you’d all like to know how Ai-chan is doing today. Ai-chan?”

“I’m doing a lot better today. Thank you all for your concern. I’m sorry for inconveniencing you yesterday.” Momohara bows briefly.

“Do you know what caused her illness?” Sudou asks. “Was it food poisoning?” He glances sideways at Akihito.

“We won’t have the final results until tomorrow, but the preliminary indications are that someone gave Ai-chan an emetic… perhaps as a joke,” Shingo explains. “It wasn’t very funny, regardless of who the intended recipient was, and if anything like that happens again, the person responsible will be asked to leave the show immediately.”

“Do you know who did it?” Adachi asks.

“The emetic used is a liquid, so we suspect it was slipped into one of Ai-chan’s drinks. Unfortunately, the cameras did not reveal who did it.”

Adachi nods curtly.

Shingo claps his hands. “Well, let’s move on to more pleasant things. Ai-chan and Asami-san, are you both ready for the first solo date?”

“I’m ready if Momohara-san is,” Asami says.

“I am,” Momohara says.

“Then you two have a decision to make together: city or country?”

“City,” they both say at the same time.

“Alright. You have ten minutes to get ready, Asami-san.”

“I’m ready now.” Asami steps forward and offers his arm to Momohara, who takes it, smiling happily up at him as they walk towards the door.

 _They look good together. Why does Asami bother with someone like me when he can make a beautiful woman like Momohara-san happy? He’s just been making fun of me,_ Akihito thinks gloomily.

Some of the others follow Asami and Momohara out onto the porch to watch them depart, but Akihito remains in the drawing room.

_Now is the perfect time to get the recorder back – as long as Kirishima and Suoh don’t guard it. I need them to think I’m still hoping to search their bags upstairs._

Akihito stands up and heads into the hallway. As he passes the open front door, he hears Liu calling out to Asami, “Don’t worry; I’ll take good care of Takaba-kun while you’re gone!”

_Shit!_

Akihito races up the stairs. Suoh is already waiting for him in the bedroom.

“Let me guess… You’re just going to get something real quick,” Suoh sneers.

“I was looking for a quiet place to play my game,” Akihito retorts. He turns on his Game Boy and starts playing his Zelda game, turning the volume up.

“Could you please use headphones?” Suoh asks.

“I could,” Akihito says, “but they kind of bother my ears, so I was trying to give them a break.”

Suoh shrugs and returns to his magazine.

After twenty minutes, Suoh says, “I’m not going to leave, you know. You may as well give up and run along and play.”

Akihito sighs. He pulls out his bathing suit. “You know, you look like you could use some playtime yourself. Want to join me for a swim?”

“No, thank you.”

 

As Akihito heads downstairs, he wonders where Kirishima is. _I guess it only takes one of them to guard the room. Does that mean he’s working in the closed wing? Surely they’re not guarding my recorder; they probably think I can’t get to it._

He casually searches the other rooms, but Kirishima’s not around. He wanders outside. Kirishima’s not near the pool, either.

_Damn._

Akihito decides to wander through some of the small, walled gardens near the house. Before he can do so, however, Adachi calls out to him.

“Takaba-san, do you have a minute?”

“Sure,” Akihito says, not being able to come up with an excuse as to why he might be busy.

“You were the only one who seemed to take me seriously last night about Ai-san possibly being poisoned – at least among the people who aren’t currently suspects,” Adachi says in a low voice as he leads the way into the nearest walled garden.

Steve follows them inside with his camera. Adachi holds the gate open for Steve before closing it.

“I thought Inagaki-san said that it was just an emetic,” Akihito says, wrinkling his forehead.

“Many emetics _are_ poisons. That’s why they work,” Adachi says darkly.

“Oh. So you think they just didn’t give Momohara-san enough?” Akihito asks, his eyebrows shooting up. He’s learned never to dismiss the accusation of a crime, no matter how far-fetched it may seem at first.

Adachi shrugs. “Or maybe they thought they did. Maybe they just wanted to interrupt the solo date.”

“But they didn’t know who Momohara-san had chosen when they poisoned her,” Akihito points out.

Adachi frowns. “Good point. Maybe they just wanted to make her sick so they could take care of her.”

“With that many people, there was no guarantee he would get the chance.”

Adachi studies him. “You sound almost like a cop.”

“So do you,” Akihito jokes back. “Is it the crime dramas you like to watch?”

Adachi shrugs. “I guess. And the fact that we don’t have a lot to do here. Anyway, based on what Shingo-san said, it sounds like the emetic was probably placed in one of Ai-san’s drinks. From my notes, the people who handled her drinks last night were Asami-san, Suoh-san, Kirishima-san, Sudou-san, Sakazaki-san, and Shingo-san.”

“And Momohara-san herself,” Akihito points out.

Adachi’s eyes widen. “You think Ai-san –”

Akihito cuts him off. “No, of course not. Sorry. I was just trying to be thorough. There would be no reason for her to do that. She seemed really embarrassed to get sick in front of everyone. Anyway, why would someone want to get that sick?”

“They wouldn’t,” Adachi agrees.

“Why is that list so long?” Akihito asks. “A few people were really tossing the drinks back, but I don’t remember Momohara-san being one of them.”

“That’s right. She only had three beverages. The first was a glass of wine, though, and remember that everyone had one? We passed those around the table.”

“So it probably wasn’t that, right? It would be hard to know which glass Momohara-san would end up with.”

“Unless they slipped it into the wrong one at first, and that’s why Sudou-san got sick, too,” Adachi ponders.

“He was sitting three seats away from her. If it had been someone closer to her, that would make more sense,” Akihito says. “Anyway, do you really believe he was sick?”

“I’m not sure,” Adachi says. “I didn’t actually _see_ him, but he did claim to be.”

“I know. I heard him not long afterwards in the bath with Sakazaki-san, and he sounded fine then,” Akihito says.

“Then he probably didn’t become ill from an emetic like Ai-san did,” Adachi concludes, delicately sidestepping whether Sudou was ill at all. “Most emetics taste really bad, too. I doubt you could mask their taste in white wine.”

Akihito decides not to ask how Adachi knows this. “So it probably was from one of the other two drinks,” he says.

“Okay, that rules out Suoh-san, Kirishima-san, and Sakazaki-san, then,” Adachi concludes while making a notation in his notebook.

“So that leaves Asami-san, Sudou-san, and Inagaki-san?” Akihito asks.

“Yes.”

“How easy is it to get emetics?” Akihito asks. “That’s not something you normally carry around, is it? So how did the person get it? And since production went through our luggage –”

“Takaba-san!” Steve whispers urgently.

Akihito snorts. _Right. They wouldn’t want the viewing public to know that. Well, tough. They’ll just have to edit this conversation in a way that makes them look good._

“Wouldn’t they have found it in one of the bachelors’ bags?” Akihito finishes his thought.

Adachi frowns. “That’s true. There’s a pretty substantial first aid kit in the hallway. Sometimes emetics are provided in case of poisoning. I’ll go check and see if there’s one there.”

“Okay. Let me know what you find out,” Akihito says, anxious to get back to his mission of retrieving his recording pen from the closed wing while Asami is still away on his date.

Steve follows Adachi back through the gate they came in through. Akihito turns and heads for the gate on the opposite side. As he’s nearly through it, he hears Nanahara calling him from the other gate.  Akihito pretends not to hear as the gate swings shut behind him. As soon as it’s closed, he sprints over to the tallest tree and climbs it, hopping from a branch onto a balcony railing. From there, he pulls himself up onto the steep roof and crawls carefully over to a garret window.

He can hear Nanahara calling for him below, but he’s too busy peering in the window. The room appears to be a small attic used for storage since at least the Taishō Period. Jiggling open the ancient lock takes only a few seconds.

Once he’s in the attic, Akihito quickly crosses the room, sticking as close to the edges and stepping as lightly as possible to avoid any squeaky floorboards. Outside the room, there’s a narrow landing for a staircase that extends in both directions.

Akihito creeps down the stairs and waits at the door, listening for several long minutes as he processes a mental map of the house. The room Asami and Kirishima were in last night is to the right and behind him. He takes a deep breath, counts to ten, and slowly eases the door open a crack.

After another minute’s wait, Akihito opens the door, slips out of it, and soundlessly closes it behind him again. He immediately goes down the hall to his left, stopping just before the first door on the left. He peeks into the room and breathes a sigh of relief as he edges into it.

The room is a small office. Akihito closes the door behind him and locks it before glancing around. He’s scanning the desk for his pen, but his reporter brain is also quickly sifting through the information on the various documents left out. The word “stalker” leaps out at him, and he quickly pulls out his minicam to take pictures of the documents as he skims them.

Apparently Momohara has been harassed by a stalker for some time, but the threat has escalated, and the show was conceived to provide her with a safe environment while still allowing her to work. Momohara’s agency is working with the police to try to plant false leads, hoping to lure the stalker out without putting Momohara in danger.

 _But what if the stalker is one of the bachelors or crew members?_ Akihito worries, remembering how sick she got just last night after being given the emetic.

The next page of the report shows that the agency considered that, as there are summaries for everyone involved with the show. Akihito finishes taking pictures of the report and is about to put it back down when the signature on the report draws his attention: Suoh Kazumi, Chief of Security.

Does that mean Momohara works for Asami? Akihito turns back to the front page of the report, taking a picture of Momohara’s agency’s name. He has a lot more research to do later, but he needs to make sure he’s out of the closed wing before Kirishima discovers him – or worse, Asami returns.

_I’ve got plenty of time before that happens._

Akihito quickly searches the rest of the room, finding no sign of his pen. He also, sadly, does not discover any evidence of Sion’s nefarious deeds.

Akihito opens the door slightly. He hears a voice talking quietly down the hall, but after a moment, he realizes the person must be in a room, because the voice isn’t moving. Akihito tiptoes past the stairs. The second door on the right is open, and the voice seems to be coming from there.

Akihito sidles up to the first doorway past the stairs, which leads into a small breakroom. He grabs one of the glasses stacked on the open shelf and presses it against the wall.

“The data was encrypted with the best software available. It would take days to try to guess the password, even on a supercomputer.”

It’s Kirishima’s voice.

After a pause, he says, “No, Asami-sama said there’s no point in telling Liu yet. He believes we’ll be able to recover the disk before we have to hand it over to Liu. Are you sure the brat doesn’t have it?”

“Have you checked the cameras?” Kirishima asks sharply.

_Uh-oh. Sounds like they noticed I’m not in the pool. Time for a diversion._

Akihito pulls out one of the few fireworks he managed to sneak into his luggage. He opens the window, lights the firework, and tosses it down. It lands on the patio just under Kirishima’s balcony. Akihito hurriedly eases the window closed and hides inside the small pantry just as the firework goes off.

“What is that?” Kirishima shouts. He runs past the door.

As soon as he’s gone, Akihito rushes into the room that Kirishima just vacated. He spies his recorder on the desk and picks it up, leaving behind Asami’s leaky fountain pen. He wildly snaps a few pictures of the reports on the desk, not daring to take any time to read them at all.

Akihito heads back into the hallway. He’s just passing the kitchen when Suoh appears at the end of the hall. “Hey, brat, what are you doing?!”

Akihito has to make a split-second decision: he can run forward and try to make it to the stairs leading back to the attic, which is closer to him than it is to Suoh, or he can run backwards and try to make it out the window and onto the balcony from Asami’s office. His feet make the decision for him as they race forward. Just as Akihito yanks the door open, Suoh leaps to tackle him. Akihito jumps, vaulting over the bodyguard’s back and racing up the stairs.

“He’s an idiot to go that way,” Suoh calls. “There’s nothing up there but the roof.”

Akihito can hear two people pounding up the stairs behind him. He decides he doesn’t have time to try to make it through the packed attic to the garret window he came through, so he continues up the next flight of stairs, which emerges onto a balcony perched on the very peak of the roof.

He runs to the edge of the balcony, peering at his options. The roof is rather steep, but there are a number of ornamental features on the house. The question is how well attached are they to the house? They’re obviously strong enough to withstand the high winds of storms, but can they support his weight?

While Akihito’s still searching for the best place to escape, he hears a voice behind him that stops him cold.

“There’s nowhere to run now. Caught like a rat in a trap.”

It’s Asami, back from his date already.

“How was your date?” Akihito asks, smirking.

“You seem rather calm considering your predicament,” Asami says. “There are no cameras here to protect you.”

“I’ve been in worse situations than being chased by a bunch of old crooks,” Akihito snarks back.

He grabs onto the balcony railing and leaps over it before Kirishima or Suoh can step forward to grab him. Akihito slides down the roof, going right off the end, but his aim is true, and he’s able to catch a dragon-shaped gargoyle just below the eaves.

Asami leans over the railing and sees him hanging there. Akihito sticks his tongue out at him, and Asami actually chuckles and gives him a little nod.

 _Is he finally acknowledging me?_ Akihito wonders. _Wait! I don’t need that bastard’s acknowledgement!_

 

“Takaba-san! What are you doing?!” Nanahara bellows from below.

Akihito swings from the gargoyle to the edge of the balcony. From there, it’s an easy jump back into the tree, which he quickly climbs down.

“Just practicing parkour,” he says sheepishly, scratching the back of his head.

“You’re not supposed to go outside the range of the cameras,” Nanahara chides.

“I didn’t realize I was. I thought you said the entire house was monitored.”

Nanahara takes a deep breath, closes her eyes for a moment, then releases the breath and opens her eyes. “The _interior_ of the house is monitored, as well as the _accessible_ exterior. The exterior accessible _without_ using parkour,” she clarifies.

“Oh. Sorry.”

Nanahara sighs. “It’s fine. I guess we’ve gotten enough footage of you doing parkour. Let me change your battery.”

As soon as she pops his battery out, she says, “You might want to cool it on this parkour stuff. Stop going off so much by yourself, try to get along with the other bachelors.”

“I don’t really have a lot in common with them,” Akihito grouses. “And most of them don’t seem to respect me.”

“You’ve got to make more of an effort. You’re intelligent and hard-working, but they don’t know that. You’ve got to show them.”

“They shouldn’t look down on me just because of my current job,” Akihito grumbles.

“That’s how the world works,” Nanahara says matter-of-factly. “The sooner you learn that and accept it, the easier life will be for you. Don’t you want to make a profession of your photography one day?”

“Yeah,” Akihito admits. _I already do, though…_

“How are things going with Asami-san?” Nanahara asks.

Akihito instantly turns tomato-red.

“That well, huh? So you decided to keep playing hard to get?” Nanahara grins at him.

“Nanahara-san! I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Akihito protests.

“Don’t worry, I erased the recordings of your little talk in the middle of the night,” Nanahara says.

Akihito’s blush deepens. “That – I was asleep!” he protests.

“You were awake for your talk and what came after it,” Nanahara says.

Akihito buries his face in his hands. “Can’t you do anything about his sexual harassment?” he whimpers.

“I don’t think you really want me to do that,” Nanahara says. “And the only way I could would be to let the producer listen to your audio. Do you really want that?”

“No,” Akihito admits.

“Good, because the audio is probably not enough evidence that you’re being harassed,” Nanahara says briskly. “I take it you don’t want to try my advice to act like you’re into him?”

“Of course not!” Akihito bursts out. “As if I could do that… with a guy!”

“Hmm.”

Akihito doesn’t like the sound of that “hmm” – it somehow sounds as if Nanahara doesn’t believe him.

“Well, I suppose you could continue trying to be bratty, though it seems to just make him want to tease you more.”

“So I should act more mature?” Akihito asks.

Nanahara shrugs. “If that’s possible for you.” She pops the new battery in and hands Akihito’s microphone back to him, leaving him unable to ask her anything further.

 _Is she trying to help me or not?_ he wonders.

Akihito heads back into the house. Asami and Kirishima are in the kitchen, their backs to him. Kirishima hands Asami a glass of water, and Asami slides a single red rose into it.

The door closes behind Akihito, and Asami turns. He follows Akihito’s gaze and smirks, raising one eyebrow. “Jealous?” he asks.

“Who would be jealous of you?” Akihito asks, stomping up the stairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The order got a bit mixed up, but Akihito finally impressed Asami, so hopefully that means the romance will be heating up a little... But who knows; Asami keeps manhandling Akihito every chance he gets. That's not how you woo, Asami! (And that's not how you woo Asami, either, if you want to live to tell the tale...)


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Adachi and Akihito continue to work to determine who gave Momohara the emetic, they overhear an interesting conversation between Sudou and Sakazaki. Akihito's investigation is derailed by another run-in with Fei Long. Will Asami save Akihito from the dangerous Baishe leader? Or did Akihito just fall out of the frying pan and into the fire?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter is very mature; I think it's just about the most explicit thing I've written.
> 
> Thanks to everyone who reads, gives kudos, subscribes, and/or leaves comments. It really helps me stay motivated to write.
> 
> You'll notice some of the dialogue and actions in this chapter are once again closely inspired by the manga, so I want to make sure I give extra credit to Yamane Ayano-sensei.
> 
> Original Characters:  
> Hanako: the paper's spy in the production team  
> Nanahara Aoki: the production assistant in charge of Akihito  
> Inagaki Shingo: the host of the show  
> Adachi Atsushi: one of the salaryman bachelors who went on the ziplining group date and knows a lot about Ai-chan  
> Tachibana Jun and Takahashi Hiro: two salarymen from the same company, on a company mission that has something to do with Asami  
> Kurosaki Kiyoshi: Diet member bachelor, serves on Economy, Trade, and Industry Committee; wants to talk with Asami  
> Steve: friendly cameraman who goes running with Akihito  
> The Jerk: the unfriendly cameraman often assisgned to Akihito

Akihito desperately wants to go through the pictures he took in Asami’s office in the closed wing, but the Jerk (Akihito’s nickname for the cameraman who made him run in circles around him the first morning) seems bound and determined not to lose track of him for even a second.

Akihito decides to take Nanahara’s advice and hang out with some of the other bachelors. He retrieves his pool bag from where he left it and heads to the bathroom to change. While in the stall, he quickly transfers the data from his recording pen and minicam to the Game Boy. He clears the memory from the pen and minicam.

_I need to keep these with me at all times, especially now that Asami knows this is a recorder. At least the Game Boy has a password – not that anyone would even be able to figure out how to access the password screen to begin with._

 

When Akihito gets down to the pool, he chooses a lounge chair next to Adachi. “What time is it?” Akihito asks.

Adachi glances at his watch. “Eleven thirty. I should put on some more sunscreen.”

“Asami wasn’t gone very long on his date,” Akihito realizes. While he doesn’t have a watch, he figures it had to be after nine at the very least when Asami and Momohara left.

“Are they already back?” Adachi asks, surprised. “They were only gone for an hour and a half.” He frowns. “I guess I’m glad I got to go on the group date, then.”

“Asami still got more time with Momohara-san when you think about the fact that there were six of us, though,” Akihito points out. He can’t help thinking again about the rose Asami received from Momohara. “How do the roses work again?” he mutters.

“Oh, Asami-san got one, right? On a solo date, Ai-san has to decide at the end whether her date deserves to stay or not. She’ll give out one more rose on the next group date, and then the rest of us will have to wait until the rose ceremony to see whether we’ll get one of the remaining roses.”

“How many will there be?” Akihito asks.

Adachi shrugs. “It depends. They change that every season in America, and who knows how the Japanese version will work? I don’t think they’ll tell us until we show up. Not knowing increases our stress, which will lead to better TV, right?”

“I guess,” Akihito says. He takes off his t-shirt and drops it into his pool bag. “I’m going to cool off for a bit.”

“Wait, Takaba-san,” Adachi mutters, turning towards Akihito on the pretense of reaching his back with the sunscreen.

Akihito suddenly remembers that Adachi was going to check the first aid kit for emetics. “Can I borrow some of that?” he asks, reaching for the sunscreen, even though he usually doesn’t bother with the stuff.

“Sure. I’ll do your back for you,” Adachi offers. Akihito turns around, and Adachi leans forward as he rubs the lotion into Akihito’s shoulders, whispering in his ear, “There was no emetic in the first aid kit… but there was an empty space where one _might_ have been. But I’m not sure.”

Akihito’s eyes widen, but he waits until Adachi is done lotioning his back. “Turn around and I’ll do yours,” he offers.

As he rubs the lotion into Adachi’s shoulders, Akihito whispers, “So maybe the person brought it with them after all? If so, maybe they put it in a container labeled for something else.”

“You mean like shampoo?” Adachi mutters.

“Yeah, possibly…” Akihito finishes rubbing the lotion in and steps away from Adachi. “You should be good. Do you burn easily?”

Adachi shrugs. “Not really. Just being careful.”

Akihito rubs some sunscreen on his face, too, before heading over to the pool and diving in. He swims around a bit, reveling in the coolness of the water. But as he swims, his thoughts start to wander.

_Asami made sure I saw him go into the closed wing right before he left for his date. And he came back so soon… Was he setting me up? No… There’s no way he’d know I was going to break into the closed wing to get my pen back, right? And how would he know the date would be so short?_

But then why did Asami go directly to the closed wing as soon as he got home – even before he took care of his rose?

Akihito’s skin crawls as if someone is watching him. He looks up at the house and notices Asami on the balcony of the closed wing, smirking down at him.

Akihito blushes and dives under the water, swimming vigorously for a few minutes. When he looks back at the balcony, Asami is gone.

A few minutes later, Akihito gets the feeling someone is watching him again, but when he looks up, he can’t see anyone. Deciding he’s simply gotten chilly from being in the water too long, he hauls himself out and collapses on the lounge chair next to Adachi.

Akihito has barely closed his eyes when he hears the door leading into the house from the pool deck open. He sleepily opens one eye and notices Sudou and Sakazaki walking towards them. Only the occasional slight sway gives away how sloshed they are, and when Sudou speaks to him, Akihito is momentarily too impressed that his speech isn’t the slightest bit slurred to register what the model is actually saying.

“You’re in my seat.”

“What?” Akihito asks, sitting up reluctantly.

“That’s my seat. You can have one of the ones over there,” Sudou gestures across the pool to where there are beach chairs instead of loungers.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t see your name on it,” Akihito retorts before he can bite it back.

“I claimed it yesterday,” Sudou says. “I need it for my profession; I can’t afford to let my tan get uneven.”

Akihito tries not to roll his eyes, but he starts gathering his things. He doesn’t really care where he sits, and he’d rather not get into a pissing contest with the obnoxious model.

“Takaba-san is already sitting there,” Adachi says firmly. “I’m sure you’re capable of moving a different chair into a spot where you can get an even tan. Isn’t moderate exercise also important to your profession, after all?”

Sudou gapes at Adachi, but Akihito mutters, “It’s fine. I was just about to get up, anyway.” Regardless of what Nanahara suggested, he simply can’t imagine _ever_ getting along with the model. Everything out of Sudou’s mouth is like nails on a chalkboard to Akihito.

“Wait, I’ll come with you,” Adachi says, hurriedly gathering his things. As they head through the gate into the onsen area, Adachi says, “You really shouldn’t let him walk all over you like that.”

Akihito stops as soon as the door into the changing room shuts behind them.

“What’s up?” Adachi asks as he nearly bumps into him.

“I think I’ll hit the onsen,” Akihito says, mischief glinting in his eyes. “Want to join me?” They hurriedly rinse off and head back outside, making sure the door closes silently.

They slide into the onsen, and they can hear snatches of Sakazaki’s and Sudou’s conversation.

“Any luck today?” Sakazaki asks.

“His date didn’t last long, but he’s in that stupid closed wing again,” Sudou grumbles. “Every time I try to talk to him, that Kirishima or Suoh seems to get in the way.”

“Or that Takaba?” Sakazaki asks, sounding amused.

Sudou huffs. “I don’t even get why that guy’s here. Ai-chan is way out of his league. Why does he keep bugging Asami-san?”

“Isn’t it the other way around?” Sakazaki asks. “Anyway, I can understand Asami-san’s interest. Have you gotten a load of Takaba’s ass?”

_Shit. This was a bad idea,_ Akihito thinks as Adachi looks over at him curiously. Akihito hides his face behind his washcloth, but he knows that his ears and neck must be bright red.

“Is he saying what I think he’s saying?” Adachi whispers to Akihito, causing Akihito to miss Sudou’s response.

“Shh!” Akihito whispers back.

“– that Liu guy,” Sudou says.

“He’s got a nice ass, too,” Sakazaki says.

“Is he gay?” Adachi whispers. “Then why is he here dating Ai-san?”

“Shh!” Akihito takes the washcloth off his face and glares at Adachi. Adachi gives him a sheepish look and exaggerates closing his mouth tightly.

“– think he took from Asami-san?” Sudou asks.

“I have no idea,” Sakazaki replies. “I’m guessing it might have something to do with that Liu guy, because Asami-san didn’t seem particularly happy that Liu found out about it.”

Akihito screws up his eyes in concentration, trying to figure out what he missed. _Do Sudou and Sakazaki know who took something from Asami?_

The door from the pool deck to the house opens with a bang. “Your microphones aren’t working!” a P.A. calls to Sakazaki and Sudou. He runs over to fix the issue, and Adachi whispers, “What was all that about?”

Akihito shrugs. “I have no idea.”

“Does any of it have to do with Ai-san being poisoned?”

“I have no idea,” Akihito says again, more honestly this time.

“Are _you_ gay?” Adachi asks.

“Of course not!” Akihito snaps.

“I see. What about Asami-san? And Sakazaki-san?”

Akihito shrugs. “I don’t know. Maybe they’re bi? It doesn’t really concern us, does it?”

Adachi eyes him worriedly. “It sounded like maybe it _should_ concern you. Don’t drop your soap in the shower.”

“Why do you think I haven’t showered around anyone else?” Akihito mutters.

“Oh. How long has this been going on?” Adachi asks sympathetically.

“Sakazaki grabbed my butt during the meet-and-greet photo,” Akihito admits. He’s not sure why he doesn’t mention anything Asami’s done to him.

“Why didn’t you report him?” Adachi asks, wide-eyed.

“And say what? He’d just claim it was an accident,” Akihito says. “Who would believe that a guy here to date Momohara-san would be groping other contestants’ asses?”

“Good point,” Adachi acknowledges. “I’m getting warm, so I’m going to head out. Be careful, okay? If Sakazaki tries anything, give a holler, and I’ll come running.”

“Thanks,” Akihito says. “Though I think I could take him myself.”

Adachi chuckles, looking Akihito up and down. “I bet you could.”

 

Akihito leans back and relaxes as he listens to Sakazaki’s and Sudou’s conversation. With their microphones back on, they fall into an easy banter about the entertainment industry and fashion. Akihito quickly tunes out, just letting the stress of the past few days flow out of him.

He removes the washcloth from his eyes when he hears the door to the changing room close. By the time his eyes adjust to the light, someone is already squeezing the most delicate part of his anatomy.

“What the hell?” he splutters.

Long black hair tickles his arms.

_Liu._

“Give me the data disk,” Liu growls into his ear.

“What are you talking about?” Akihito asks, trying not to whimper as Liu squeezes harder.

“The disk Asami gave you for safekeeping. He was supposed to hand it over to me, and now he’s trying to pretend he doesn’t have it,” Liu says in a clipped tone.

“I still don’t know what you’re talking about,” Akihito grits out through clenched teeth.

“I know how to make sluts like you talk.” Liu releases Akihito’s shoulder with one hand, though his other hand remains firmly in place lower down. Akihito tries to push Liu away, but the pain is so intense, the edges of his vision are receding, and he can barely move his hands.

Liu uses his free hand to lower a tube of something towards Akihito’s rear end. Akihito tries to keep his muscles tightly clenched, but Liu squeezes his cock again, and the slender nozzle of the tube slips inside.

“What –” Akihito gasps as he feels a hot sensation spreading inside him. It’s not quite a burning sensation, but it’s uncomfortable, and it takes a moment for Akihito to realize that he’s more erect than he’s ever been in his life. Every touch is torture, and when Liu squeezes again, Akihito has to fight not to actually faint from the pain.

“Now tell me where the disk is,” Liu repeats.

Suddenly the door from the house bursts open.

“Fei Long, let go of him at once!” Asami barks, sprinting across in his suit.

“Give me the data disk,” Liu commands.

“I already told you, someone took it,” Asami growls. “If you don’t let go at once, I’ll send you back to your father as a failure.”

Liu lets go of Akihito and crosses the onsen, exiting it on the opposite side. He walks naked into the changing room, stopping just long enough to grab a robe and tie it around his waist.

Akihito loses sight of Liu as he starts sinking into the water. He tries to figure out which way is up, but his entire attention seems to be pulled to the sensations in his nether regions. He feels warm arms around him, and he scrabbles to grab on. Soon, he feels the hard stone of the onsen patio on his back, and his hands reach to hold onto the shoulders again.

“Takaba! What’s wrong?”

Akihito realizes someone is patting his cheek. He reaches up and takes the hand, nuzzling it against his cheek instead. “So… hot,” he mumbles.

“What did that bastard give you?” Asami’s deep voice seems to vibrate down Akihito’s spine and to the tip of his cock.

“Don’t… know… squirted something… up… ass,” Akihito manages to get out.

“Get me a towel,” Asami calls over his shoulder.

Akihito reaches up and turns Asami’s face back towards him. “’Sami?” he asks.

“You’ll be fine,” Asami assures him.

Soon, Akihito is wrapped in the warm softness of a towel, being gently rocked back and forth. After a moment, he realizes Asami must be carrying him somewhere.

“He passed out in the onsen, just a little overheated. He’ll be fine, but he needs to lie down somewhere dark and quiet,” Kirishima says in a quiet tone.

Soon, Akihito is laid on a soft surface. He rolls back and forth, enjoying the sensation of the silky fabric on his naked body.

“Guard the door,” Asami says over his shoulder.

Akihito reaches out to pull Asami closer to him again.

“Just a second. Let me get out of this wet suit,” Asami says. He stands and hands his wet clothes around the blanket in the doorway to someone outside.

“Come back,” Akihito whines piteously, barely able to make out Asami’s shape in the semi-darkness. _Why is it so dark?_ he wonders fleetingly, but the sight of Asami slowly making his way back to Akihito diverts his attention.

Akihito’s cock gives a painful twitch. It’s so hard, he wants to come, but he can’t. “Help, ‘Sami,” he whimpers, reaching his arms up towards the other man.

The next moment, Akihito is adrift in a sea of countless sensations. His mouth is claimed by Asami’s, and every inch of skin the other man touches feels like it’s bathed in warm light. And the other man seems to be touching every inch of skin Akihito has.

“I like the you who pretends he doesn’t want it, but this you expressing your needs so openly is cute, too,” Asami murmurs in Akihito’s ear.

“More,” Akihito breathes. He feels like he’ll go crazy if he doesn’t have some release soon.

But whatever Liu gave him won’t let that happen easily. No matter what Asami does to him or how much it makes Akihito moan and pant, he can’t finish. Soon Akihito is begging with tears streaming down his face.

Asami’s fingers are soon exploring the place Akihito has only experienced once before – with Asami in the onsen yesterday.

“Are you okay?” Asami asks as he adds a third finger.

Akihito nods. “More. Please!” he groans. Before he has time to think or realize what’s happening, Asami is using something much longer and thicker than a finger. Through the haze in his mind, Akihito finally figures out what it is, but he’s already near the edge, and his physical needs overwhelm anything the logical part of his mind might have had to say about it.

“Asami! Now! Please!” Akihito cries. He digs his hands into Asami’s shoulders, trying to hold onto the world that seems to be slipping away. His body spasms as relief finally comes, and he can feel something warm inside of him. He realizes that Asami is gasping, too, and Akihito reaches up and claims his lips with his own.

“Akihito,” Asami murmurs in his ear, and Akihito’s body springs back up, ready for action again.

He groans.

 

An hour later, Akihito wakes up to someone patting his cheek.

“Akihito! Are you alright?”

Akihito blearily opens his eyes, and his memory comes flooding back. He blushes and tries to turn his head away, though it’s impossible with Asami still on top of him.

“Ah. Are you finally back?” Asami asks, his voice tinged with a hint of disappointment.

“Get off. You’re heavy,” Akihito whines. Every muscle in his body aches, though it’s nothing compared to his head.

As Asami slides off of him, Akihito hears a squelching sound and feels an odd sensation in his nether region.

“Were you still –” he splutters.

“You were only passed out for a second,” Asami explains. “I was more focused on making sure you were okay.”

“I’m fine,” Akihito blusters, trying to sit up. But the movement makes his head feel like someone has just lodged an axe in his skull, and he groans and lies back down.

“Relax. I’ll get you some water,” Asami says. He heads to the doorway and pulls back the blanket wedged there to have a short conversation with someone.

Akihito strains his ears, but he can’t make out what they’re saying. He looks around the room and notices the blankets tacked up over the window. _That explains why it’s so dark in here. I wonder what time it is._

He becomes aware that soft classical music is playing. When Asami comes back, Akihito blurts out, “Were you seriously playing ‘Ride of the Valkyries’ earlier?” Akihito blushes as he remembers what they were doing while the song was playing.

“You know Wagner?” Asami’s eyebrows shoot up.

Akihito rolls his eyes. “Duh. Who doesn’t know that song? It’s epic listening to it while grinding to the final battle of a video game. It just seems weird during… that.” Akihito blushes even redder and averts his eyes.

“I needed something to cover up all the noises you were making,” Asami says. “Even with the music, you’re lucky everyone else was outside.”

Akihito pulls his pillow over his head. “Shut up. That wasn’t me,” he mutters.

“On the contrary, I think it was the first time you have ever been that completely honest,” Asami counters.

Someone knocks on the doorjamb, and Asami crosses the room again to accept a bottle of water. He walks back to Akihito and holds the bottle over his head.

“Here.”

Akihito reaches up for the bottle, but Asami pulls the bottle away and claims Akihito’s lips again. Akihito draws back, wincing. “Didn’t you have enough of that? My head is killing me.”

Asami sighs and hands over two tablets. “Take these.”

“What are they?” Akihito asks suspiciously.

“Acetaminophen.”

Akihito swallows the pills down. As he lies back down on the futon, a pain shoots through his backside, and his back spasms. “Could I have a hot water bottle, too?” he mumbles.

Every muscle in his body aches as if he’s been practicing parkour all day in the hot sun, and he finds he can suddenly barely keep his eyes open.

He’s nearly drifted off to sleep when he feels a gentle hand wiping down his body. Suddenly he’s being lifted up and moved to another futon. The person places something warm at Akihito’s back. As the person starts to stand again, Akihito reaches up and grabs a fistful of Asami’s t-shirt. “You’re leaving?” Akihito asks.

Asami smirks. “What? Do you want me to stay here until you fall asleep?”

Akihito gasps. “I was just talking in my sleep.”

He releases Asami’s shirt, but Asami slides under the covers next to him.

“The bed’s too small,” Akihito mumbles as he feels his heartbeat quickening again.

“Shh, just go to sleep,” Asami says, pulling Akihito closer and kissing him on the forehead.

“But…”

Whatever objection Akihito has is left unfinished as sleep finally claims him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. I have little notes for each character with exactly how they're supposed to be shady, but they keep surprising me! First it was someone stealing the disk from Asami, then Sudou and Sakazaki's conversation, and finally Fei Long's actions in this chapter. At least it let Asami and Akihito have a bit more romantic moment, but it's kind of sad Akihito had to be under the influence for it to happen.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Akihito wakes up and has to come to terms with what happened between him and Asami. Or he can distract himself with his investigation and more parkour high jinks...
> 
> But what will happen when he sets off an alarm?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the long delay in updates. Real life has gotten really busy, and my writing schedule has gotten so erratic, I lose track of the story, which makes the writing process slower. But with the holidays coming up, hopefully I'll have time to write a bit more. I'd love to get back to both Checklist and Color My World. Please leave a comment if you have a preference as to which work I update next.
> 
> Thanks to everyone who reads, gives kudos, subscribes, and/or leaves comments. It really helps me stay motivated to write.
> 
> Original Characters:  
> Hanako: the paper's spy in the production team  
> Nanahara Aoki: the production assistant in charge of Akihito  
> Inagaki Shingo: the host of the show  
> Adachi Atsushi: one of the salaryman bachelors who went on the ziplining group date and knows a lot about Ai-chan  
> Tachibana Jun and Takahashi Hiro: two salarymen from the same company, on a company mission that has something to do with Asami  
> Kurosaki Kiyoshi: Diet member bachelor, serves on Economy, Trade, and Industry Committee; wants to talk with Asami  
> Steve: friendly cameraman who goes running with Akihito  
> The Jerk: the unfriendly cameraman often assisgned to Akihito
> 
> Japanese terms:  
> okayu: a savory rice porridge often eaten while ill, it can be augmented with healing foods such as vegetables and fish

Akihito is awakened by something stirring next to him. He can feel something wet and hard under his back, and every muscle is sore.

_Did I fall asleep in a dumpster again?_

The thing next to him is too big to be a cat, though, and it doesn’t smell bad enough to be a dumpster. Akihito tentatively stretches his back, reaching his arms above his head.

_Definitely not a dumpster. Too roomy. But why is it so dark?_

“How often do you fall asleep in dumpsters?” A voice rumbles in his ear.

Akihito spazzes, accidentally elbowing the speaker in the face, but Akihito is too caught up in the pain shooting through his backside to notice. As he struggles to sit up, memories of the past few days come flooding back, and Akihito can feel his face heating up.

A wave of dizziness washes over him. As Akihito falls back, Asami grabs his arm and pins it above his head.

“You’ll pay for that, brat.”

The threat combined with Akihito’s inability to move sends a thrill through him that he tries desperately to ignore – a feat he manages only because his body is still completely spent.

“Try and make me,” he blusters.

“I’ll make you repay me in full,” Asami murmurs. He leans down and claims Akihito’s lips.

Akihito struggles fruitlessly, but he can’t break the kiss as Asami shifts over top of him. Akihito swings with his free hand, but there isn’t enough room to really get any force behind it. Asami grabs the hand with his own free one, bringing it up next to the other. In doing so, his full weight bears down on Akihito, pressing his back into the wet, hard thing again.

The pain manages to give Akihito the strength his feigned resistance could not, and he cries out as he bucks wildly.

Asami holds both of Akihito’s hands with a single one, bracing himself with the other as he lifts himself up slightly. “What’s wrong?” he asks.

“Something… under… back,” Akihito gasps, trying to lift himself off the offending object as his muscles spasm in resistance.

Asami reaches underneath Akihito and pulls out the hot water bottle. “Oh. It’s leaking. I thought you’d wet the bed,” he says.

“Bastard.” Akihito scowls. He pulls his feet towards his bottom, which knocks Asami off-balance. Akihito quickly lifts his bottom off the futon, turning his hips towards the window. Asami is thrown off to the side, and Akihito rolls away from him towards the door, quickly scrambling to his feet.

Unfortunately, the aftereffects of whatever Liu gave Akihito have not worn off, and the sudden change in position causes blackness to encroach from the sides of his vision. He quickly squats down before he faints.

“Don’t hurt yourself, brat,” Asami growls as he stalks toward Akihito once again.

Akihito is saved by a knocking on the doorway.

“I brought the okayu,” Kirishima says.

“Come in,” Asami answers.

Akihito looks down at himself. He’s stark naked. He squeals and dives back onto the futon, snatching up the blanket and covering himself just as Kirishima pulls down the blanket blocking the doorway.

Kirishima ignores Akihito completely, handing the tray to Asami. “Will there be anything else, Asami-sama?” he asks.

“No. That will be all, Kirishima,” Asami answers as he sets the tray over Akihito’s legs.

Kirishima bows and turns to leave.

“Thanks, Kirishima-san,” Akihito calls after him, but the secretary pretends not to hear. Akihito stares at the steaming bowl of okayu, full of vegetables and various types of fish with an entire lobster staring at him from the top. “I can’t eat all of this.”

“Just eat what you can,” Asami says absentmindedly, already engrossed in the report he picked up from the floor next to the futon.

“You don’t have to stay with me,” Akihito says, still feeling ridiculously awkward and embarrassed.

“I’ll leave once you give me back the data disk,” Asami replies.

“I told you I don’t have it!” Akihito snipes.

“No, you didn’t,” Asami says, setting the report aside to study Akihito.

“Well, I’m telling you now, then. I have no idea what disk you and Liu are even talking about.” Akihito glares back at Asami. “But I’ll tell you one thing – I’m going to find it before either of you!”

Asami chuckles. “Go ahead.”

“You’d better not underestimate me,” Akihito warns, glowering.

“I think that would be impossible,” Asami says drily. He picks up his report and leaves before Akihito can fully comprehend the extent of the insult.

“You’d better watch your back!” Akihito calls after Asami feebly, already distracted by his rumbling stomach and the aroma of the okayu. He lifts the lobster off the top of the steaming rice porridge and sets it to the side on the tray.

Akihito starts digging in. His concentration is broken by a knock on the doorjamb. Adachi peers in at him hesitantly.

“Come on in,” Akihito says, waving his spoon.

“Takaba-san, are you alright?” Adachi asks, hovering awkwardly near the door.

“Come sit down. You want some?” Akihito offers, gesturing to the tray.

“No thanks, I ate dinner just a bit ago,” Adachi answers as he walks farther into the room. “Are you okay? Kirishima-san said that you got sick in the onsen. Did you fall asleep in there after I left?”

“Something like that,” Akihito says as he feels a blush creep across his face. “I guess I overdid it with the parkour this morning.”

Adachi glances at the camera in the chandelier in the hallway. He sits down in the corner that’s hidden from the camera. “Well, I don’t want to bother you while you’re eating. Go ahead and eat, and I’ll just keep you company if you don’t mind,” he says, gesturing for Akihito to shift so that his back is to the camera.

Adachi turns off his microphone and gestures for Akihito to do the same.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Adachi whispers. “Sakazaki-san didn’t try anything after I left, did he?”

“Of course not,” Akihito whispers back.

“Did… someone else try something? Maybe Asami-san?” Adachi asks.

“No!” Akihito exclaims hurriedly. He wills his blush not to deepen as he adds, “He just helped me out when he found me in the onsen. It was really embarrassing.”

Adachi studies Akihito carefully. “Did you know Asami-san before the show?”

“No,” Akihito answers honestly. Adachi looks skeptical, so Akihito hastens to clarify, “I mean, I’ve heard of his club, of course, but I never knew anything about him.”

“Hmm.”

Akihito can’t tell whether Adachi believes him or not, but Adachi mercifully changes the topic.

“After I went in and grabbed a snack, I tried to listen in a bit more on Sudou-san and Sakazaki-san’s conversation.”

“Did they say anything more about Liu and Asami?” Akihito asks.

“No, because they had their microphones on. But Sakazaki-san accused that designer guy – Minoru-san?”

“You mean Mitarai-san?” Akihito asks.

“Yeah, him. Sakazaki-san said it seemed like Mitarai-san was only interested in the free publicity the show could give his art, and that he didn’t care about Ai-san.”

Akihito’s eyebrows shoot up. “Really? What did Mitarai-san say?”

“He denied it, of course, and then he said that it seemed like someone in the entertainment industry might get more benefit from free publicity than a salaryman like himself.”

“Was he talking about Sakazaki-san or Sudou-san?” Akihito asks, chuckling a little.

Adachi laughs, too. “Both, I think. At least _they_ both thought so. “

“I bet Sudou-san didn’t like that,” Akihito says, laughing a little harder.

Adachi stops laughing. “Actually, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about. Well, that and making sure you were okay and Sakazaki-san hadn’t done anything to you. Sudou-san said that he didn’t need any more publicity –” Adachi rolls his eyes “—but he _also_ said that he’s always admired Ai-san and has wanted to work with her for a really long time, but somehow they never have, even though he’s been pressuring his manager to set it up for him for years.” Adachi looks at Akihito expectantly, as if he’s just received the last clue in a murder mystery and should be able to solve the case.

Akihito raises his eyebrows back at Adachi. “And so…” he stalls, his mind racing. _What does Adachi-san know about again?_ “You think Sudou-san might have been the one to give the emetic to Momohara-san?” he guesses.

“Don’t you?” Adachi asks. “Maybe he wanted to punish Ai-san for ignoring him all these years by embarrassing her on her own show.”

“That doesn’t sound like something a stalker would do,” Akihito replies.

“Stalker? Who said anything about a stalker?” Adachi asks, suddenly looking at Akihito suspiciously.

“I overheard some of the crew talking about it,” Akihito says sheepishly. “Apparently Ai-san has a stalker, and they’re trying to lure him out while keeping her safe on this show – but they’re watching the contestants to make sure one of _us_ isn’t the stalker.”

Adachi glances towards the doorway again then gestures Akihito closer. “I have a confession to make. I –” He stops abruptly.

“Yeah?” Akihito urges him to continue.

Adachi sighs. “My gut tells me I can trust you, but I was warned not to trust anyone.” He sighs again. “Suffice it to say, I heard about the stalker, too. That’s why I was so worried when Ai-san got sick.”

“I still don’t see why the stalker would make her sick,” Akihito says. “Unless he’s mad she’s been ignoring him – but if he were on the show, wouldn’t he finally have her attention?”

“Split with a dozen other guys,” Adachi reminds him.

“True. But making her sick didn’t get her attention on him,” Akihito counters.

“We know _someone_ gave Ai-san an emetic.”

It’s Akihito’s turn to sigh. “You’re right. I have no idea who, much less why. Wasn’t Sudou-san on your short list of who might have done it?”

Adachi nods.

“So we’ll just have to keep an eye on him. I’ll let you know if I see or hear anything suspicious.”

“Thanks, Takaba-san.” Adachi glances towards the doorway again. He hesitates for a moment before sighing and saying, “I guess we’d better turn our microphones back on before they get suspicious.”

“You sure you don’t want any of this okayu?” Akihito asks. “I really don’t think I can eat all of it.”

“I’m sure. Kirishima-san cooked a nice dinner for everyone.”

“What time is it, anyway?” Akihito wonders.

“Eight o’clock,” Adachi says, glancing at his watch. “You ‘rested’ for a long time.”

Akihito doesn’t like the way Adachi says the word ‘rested’ – especially when he remembers what Asami said about the amount of noise Akihito was making while under the influence of Liu’s drug. Akihito doesn’t have long to ponder it because the foghorn noise interrupts his thoughts.

“All bachelors please report to the drawing room at nine o’clock sharp.”

Adachi stands up. “I’d better let you get ready. You need to bathe, right? Thanks for the talk, Takaba-san. Just… make sure you put a shirt on before you leave the room, okay?” Adachi averts his eyes and blushes slightly as he says that last part.

“Thanks, Adachi-san,” Akihito calls after him as he leaves.

Akihito sees a clean t-shirt, a pair of shorts, and some boxer-briefs folded at the foot of his futon. He moves into the camera-blind corner of the room and hastily pulls them on. The food seems to have made most of the dizziness go away.

_I definitely need a shower, but how did Adachi-san know? He thinks I fell asleep in the bath. And why was he so insistent I dress completely before leaving the room?_

Akihito gathers his shower supplies along with one of his nicer t-shirts and his jeans with the fewest holes.

_I’ll be woefully underdressed again. I wish I’d brought a nicer wardrobe. I wish I_ had _a nicer wardrobe._

Before heading down the hall, Akihito searches his bag for his recording pen, notebook, and Game Boy. He can’t find any of them. With a growing sense of panic, he searches around the futons.

_Asami! That bastard!_

Akihito wonders if Asami locked them in the closed wing again.

_Or maybe he put them in his suitcase._

But Akihito can’t search Asami’s suitcase without the camera picking up on it, and besides, his roommates might be returning at any moment to get ready.

_Should I bring up the fact that they’re missing at the meeting? No one else has a Game Boy, so Asami can’t just offer to trade me again._

“This is my mirror,” Sudou says loudly from the bathroom.

Akihito realizes he’d better get moving so he can make it to the drawing room on time. He bypasses the upstairs bathroom and heads to the one next to the onsen. He passes Kirishima and Suoh as they’re cleaning up the kitchen. Akihito places his tray on the counter. “Thanks again for the okayu, Kirishima-san. It was delicious. I can help wash up as soon as I’m ready for the meeting.”

“We’re almost done,” Kirishima answers without looking at him.

“Well, at least let me wash my bowl…” Akihito trails off as Kirishima picks up the bowl and starts washing it.

Akihito continues on to the onsen bathroom, which is mercifully empty once again. A second after he sighs in relief, a wave of worry washes over him.

_What if Liu corners me again? Or Asami?_

Akihito feels his cheeks warming. He shakes his head, trying to clear the recent memories. He distracts himself by focusing on his investigation.

_I already had the thief narrowed down to Mitarai, Kurosaki, or Liu. If it were Liu, he wouldn’t have been so angry and accused me of hiding it. That leaves Mitarai or Kurosaki. I don’t think Mitarai would be that sneaky; it’s more his style to sit outside in his car and wait for the story to come to him rather than actively pursuing it. Still, since it was a data disk, maybe Mitarai_ did _steal it._

_On the other hand, Kurosaki has been awfully desperate to talk to Asami. What’s his story?_

Akihito ponders how he can investigate Kurosaki.

_Obviously Sakazaki and Sudou know something. Maybe I can trick the information out of one of them._

Sudou seems the most likely target to inadvertently flap his gums, but Akihito wishes he had something on the model.

_I need my pictures from the closed wing. There could be something in those documents._

Akihito freezes when he sees himself in the mirror. “What the heck?!” he exclaims. “Are these bug bites?”

He looks closer and notices that they’re mostly on his neck and collar bone.

_Oh. These must be kiss marks. That bastard Asami!_

Akihito blushes as he remembers how strange Adachi was acting.

_Shit! What does he think I was up to? I need to kick Asami’s ass!_

Asami wasn't in their room or in the kitchen with his henchmen, so he must be in the closed wing again. Akihito leaves his things in the bathroom and heads outside to the onsen. None of the cameramen are around, but he remembers there are cameras around the pool. He studies the outside of the house. If he uses the onsen privacy wall, he should be able to get to a second-floor window ledge. From there, he’ll have to jump across to another window ledge, the balcony by the stairs, one more window ledge, and finally the balcony through which he spied on Asami yesterday. The biggest gap is only about three feet: difficult but manageable.

He sets off before he has a chance to change his mind. He can bathe quickly, and it can’t have been more than ten minutes since the announcement.

When Akihito reaches the closed wing balcony, the room is dark. He breathes a sigh of relief.

_Wait a second. I was coming to kick that bastard’s ass!_

It only takes a few seconds to jimmy the lock on the window. But when Akihito lifts up the sash, an alarm sounds.

_Shit!_

Akihito hears the back door open and someone running outside. His immediate instinct is to hide, and his body moves almost of its own accord to the most readily available hiding space: inside the window. Thanks to the outside lighting on the house, he can see his belongings on the desk. He snatches them up and stows them in his pockets as he races towards the door.

He can hear people running up the staircase, so he takes the only path he knows leads out. He closes the door behind him softly and races up the attic stairs as quietly as he can. He makes it to the roof before anyone thinks to check the stairs, but he knows he doesn’t have long. In the worst case scenario, the alarm system will tell them exactly where the intruder was – and he’ll be the most likely suspect. He has to get back to the onsen bathroom before they look for him.

Akihito peers down at the side of the house closest to the onsen. The people who ran outside must be searching the back side of the house, and besides, there aren’t any trees he could climb down there. But if Akihito can make it down the side of the house and over the outermost onsen wall, he just might be in the clear.

A cloud shifts over the moon, and the back-lighting from the lamps below the trees obscures the few details Akihito can see. None of the trees are tall enough to jump to from the roof. Akihito tries to guess where the upstairs windows are in the room closest to the bathroom based on his memory. He didn’t think to look out the window when he gathered futons earlier, so he doesn’t know if there’s a balcony.

After a moment’s hesitation, he decides to go for it. He’ll have to hang from a gargoyle and reassess the situation from there. If it’s impossible, he can always climb back onto the roof. As he starts to slide down, he hears footsteps coming up the stairs. He catches the gargoyle and scans the side of the building quickly. There’s no balcony to catch onto, but there are window ledges.

Akihito takes a deep breath and swings towards the nearest window ledge. He tries to grab it, but the impact is too great for him to be able to hold on. Akihito continues falling, though he did manage to slow down his descent. He reaches out with his feet and slows down his momentum further with a wall pounce. As his feet leave the wall, he kicks off and rotates so that he’s facing away from the house.

Before he knows it, his feet are hitting the ground. Akihito bends at the knees and hips, allowing his body to fall forward. His hands slap down in front of him, helping to absorb some of the impact.

As he stands back up, he assesses his body for damage. His right heel is a little sore, but it’s probably just bruised. He runs over to the onsen wall and up it. When he grabs the top, a stabbing pain shoots through his right hand.

_Shit. Did I break it? But how? I was careful when I landed. Did I hit the window ledge wrong?_

Akihito falls back down outside the onsen. He peers at his hand in the dark. There’s a dark line on his palm. Akihito brushes it with his left hand and another stab of pain hits him.

_Oh. It’s a thorn._

Akihito rolls his eyes as he remembers all the rose bushes in the gardens.

_It’s a good thing I didn’t land_ on _one._

He tries to pull the thorn out, but he can’t really see what he’s doing. The voices near the pool are growing louder and more excited, so he backs up a few paces and runs at the wall again, ignoring the soreness of his heel. Akihito grabs onto the top of the wall with his left hand and the fingers of his right hand. He uses a heel to help lift him up and over the wall, landing on the other side and running into the bathroom.

No one is there.

Akihito breathes another sigh of relief and quickly strips out of his clothes. He stows his recovered spy tools in the bottom of a hamper of clean towels before sitting down at one of the wash stations and hurriedly wetting himself. He’s just sudsing his hair, his back to the door, when Steve bursts through the door.

Akihito jumps at the noise and turns around. “Hey!” he cries indignantly.

“Sorry, Takaba-san,” Steve says, averting his eyes. “Did you see anyone else come through here?”

“No,” Akihito says. “Not since I got here, anyway.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

“Is something wrong?” Akihito asks.

“Nah. Probably a false alarm.”

Once Steve is gone, Akihito finishes bathing and tries once again to get the thorn out of his palm. After several tries, he finally manages to grab it between his thumb and forefinger nails. The foghorn noise startles him, and a little burr on the end of the thorn catches and tears his skin open more. Akihito sucks on the wound as he listens.

“All bachelors, please report to the drawing room immediately.”

_Is it nine o’clock already?_

Akihito hurriedly dries off and throws his clothes on. As he leaves the changing room, he hears Sudou’s voice whining from upstairs. “They said nine o’clock earlier. It’s only eight forty-five.”

Akihito joins the other bachelors as they head towards the drawing room. Adachi gestures him aside with a sharp nod of his head.

“The night’s getting chilly. You might want to run and grab a long-sleeved _collared_ shirt before heading in,” he whispers.

Akihito suddenly remembers the kiss marks. He blushes, mumbles thanks, and races upstairs, nearly crashing into Sakazaki on the way.

“Watch it!” Sakazaki grabs onto Akihito’s shoulders, clinging a bit longer than strictly necessary to regain his balance. When he finally removes his hands, one reaches towards Akihito’s backside, but Akihito throws a protective elbow and slides his torso forward, avoiding contact.

“Sorry,” he calls over his shoulder.

Akihito grabs a button-down shirt and throws it on over his t-shirt. He leaves the collar popped, praying that all the kiss marks are concealed. As he passes the bathroom, Sudou emerges.

_At least I won’t be last,_ Akihito thinks as he hurries to the drawing room.

 

Momohara stands next to Shingo, looking pale and shaky. The bachelors try to clamor around her, but Shingo orders them to take seats on the couches and chairs. Akihito sits next to Adachi, who elbows him and gives him a quick, subtle thumbs-up.

Akihito wonders briefly what the signal means. Adachi must have noticed his confusion, because he brushes his hand against his neck.

_Oh. I guess the kiss marks are covered._

Akihito relaxes slightly even as he feels a faint blush rise on his cheeks. He wonders once again what Adachi must think of him.

“Are you still feeling sick, Ai-chan?” Sudou asks. “I’ve mostly recovered, but you were so much sicker than me. Don’t push yourself.”

“I’m fine,” Momohara says tensely.

Several of the other bachelors start talking at once, asking how they can help or expressing their own sympathy.

Shingo holds up a hand, but the men don’t fall silent until the producer steps forward and shouts, “Quiet on the set!”

Everyone immediately stops talking.

The producer steps back behind the cameras as he nods at Shingo.

Shingo clears his throat. “There’s been an incident. It appears someone tried to break into the house.”

“Did you catch them?” Mitarai asks.

“Did they steal anything?” Kurosaki inquires.

“How? When?” Adachi adds.

Shingo holds his hand up again. “Just a few minutes ago. Some of you might have heard the alarm.”

“I thought that was Takaba’s alarm clock,” Sudou says.

Shingo glares at him, and Sudou gestures for him to continue.

“The perpetrator managed to open a second floor window.” Shingo’s eyes dart over towards Akihito for a split second. Akihito tries to look innocent.

“How?” Adachi asks again.

“We’re not sure, but there’s a trellis underneath it. It wouldn’t be hard. Security is reviewing the camera footage as we speak,” Shingo explains.

_Was I high enough to avoid the cameras?_ Akihito wonders.

“Did they get into the room? Was it one of the bedrooms?” Kurosaki asks.

“We’re not sure yet,” Shingo admits, “but the room in question is in the wing reserved for production.”

“Is the perimeter secure?” Adachi asks.

The producer steps forward. “We take the safety of everyone here very seriously. The location is top secret, and we have a state-of-the-art security system along with a complete security staff.”

“But the perimeter’s not secure,” Adachi says, reading between the lines.

“Not entirely,” the producer concedes. “But the only routes accessible by vehicle _are_ secured, and it would be a rather long hike by foot.”

“Was anything stolen?” Sudou asks. “After what happened to Asami-san earlier –” Sudou stops abruptly when Sakazaki elbows him.

“What happened to Asami-sama?” The producer asks, looking sharply at Asami.

“Someone rummaged through my luggage,” Asami explains. “I thought something was missing, but it turns out I had simply misplaced it. Some of my clothes got a bit wrinkled, but that’s all. I think maybe someone wanted to play dress-up.” His eyes flit towards Akihito.

“I told you I didn’t do it!” Akihito exclaims as most of the other bachelors start snickering. “If someone would check the cameras…” He trails off as he remembers that maybe he _doesn’t_ want people to check the cameras too closely.

“We’ll be checking all the cameras very carefully,” the producer says. “And we’ll let you know as soon as we know anything further.”

“Could the intruder still be inside?” Adachi asks.

The producer looks around at the bachelors. “The security team is still investigating, but there’s a strong possibility that the intruder was actually someone who is supposed to be inside the house. I want to remind you that the contracts you signed include a clause that you would not leave the designated areas without permission at any time. If you’re caught breaking any component of the contract, you will be asked to leave the show immediately. Is that understood?”

The producer looks sternly at each bachelor in turn (skipping over Asami and his two sidekicks) as they all mumble their understanding.

“I’m glad we have an understanding. Everyone is to remain here while the investigation continues. We will have a ‘cocktail party’ during which Momohara-san will interact informally with her suitors.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know I just had to leave it on a cliffhanger, right? (I actually did continue writing, but this turned out to be the most natural break... so I've got some of the next chapter already written.)


End file.
